What can you do with your body when you’re older? You can walk your body—sometimes. And stretch it. But how far? That’s the question that came to mind as I tried to move my body into a yoga position called “Triangle.” And why would I do this? There’s the hope of more flexibility with yoga.
That I’d move more fluidly getting out of the car after a long drive, rather than snapping my joints into place like Frankenstein. Also, balance.
“How long can you stand on one foot?” Mary, our yoga instructor challenged our group.
Why would I want to? I thought. Lately, I’ve been more about conserving energy.
I have memories though, of when I was young. We all do. Laying down on my back on the floor and throwing my legs up and over my head until I could touch the wall behind me with my toes. I used to do that a lot when I was twelve—effortlessly. And practicing “the splits” on the soft grass of my back yard thinking I could try out for the cheerleader team.
I remember climbing trees, the muscles in my arm stretching and pulling my body from one branch to another.
Sometimes I get vertigo now, without both of my feet planted on solid ground. It’s that balance thing again, that inner ear not knowing where you’re situated in the space around you. Most of my adult life I downhill skied even though I was never lithe or fast like skiers I saw schussing past me. I carefully carved my way to the bottom of the hill. But I knew where I was. I felt oriented. I knew if I fell skiing, I’d still be okay.
Mary told our group the next yoga position we were going to do was the “Half Moon.” She suggested we steady ourselves by throwing one foot on the wall as we bent down to touch the floor with the opposite hand. I’m sweating and the lone leg I’m balancing on is shaking. If my leg gives, I’ll topple to the floor and create a new yoga position: the Dead Duck.
“I’ve read yoga’s supposed to be a spiritual experience,” I gasped to Sue, my friend, doing the Half Moon next to me.
“Yeah? I don’t know about that.”
It’s true, the “Lotus” position, a well-known seated position in yoga, is representative of the lotus flower. The lotus flower blooms on the surface of the pond but has its roots down in the water. As we position our body and breathe deeply we consciously reach for the peace that comes from rising above being rooted in a tumultuous world. The “Warrior” pose, a standing pose, asks us to be courageous in the battle for awareness. We must challenge our ego and our blindness to be in “the moment,” to notice our lives as we live them. This is the path to contentment.
One of the camp counselors at the church camp I went to growing up was a college kid everyone called Yogi. I wondered how he got his name. He didn’t look like Yogi Bear on the Saturday morning cartoon show. Yogi was a small, wiry guy who drew a crowd in front of the camp snack shop one afternoon performing several difficult yoga positions. He twisted his body this way and that, throwing one arm behind his head and the other between his legs and touching them together behind his back. He was giving us an object lesson.
Yogi told us to stay away from drinking and drugs. Our body was a miracle. The Bible said it’s the temple of the Lord.
After our yoga session with Mary, Sue and I went for coffee.
“How do you feel?” I asked Sue.
“Good, but I’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“Me too. But I also feel… more rested.” I took a sip of my hot coffee. It tasted wonderful, the brew smoky and dark, the cream thick and rich.
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