So, I have to say I love yoga. It’s the best thing I’ve done for myself in awhile. Oh, I love bellydance too, don’t get me wrong, and it was my shameless idolatry of all things Rachel Brice that first got me into yoga. But nothing else has made me feel so at peace in my own skin.
I have to preface this a couple of facts. I have never had a weight problem. I have never had an eating disorder. In fact, much of the unhappiness in my life has been due to my own neuroses, not traceable to any trauma or great disaster. But I was unhappy for a very long time when I was younger, and I used to think often of how great it would be if I could just be someone else. Someone with a rippled abs, bountiful boobs. . . (and yes, a smaller nose). . .ahem.
It’s just so easy to overlook what we have and focus on what we don’t. And ungrateful wretch that I am, I do it too. But I look at my daughter, and she free and beautiful, the same way a tiger or a flower is, unware of its own beauty. Rowan only notices what her body can do. She jumps, she runs, climbs and acts. She simply is. And though my yoga practice is still very much that of a beginner’s, it is nice to see what I can do. There are some things I can do that I had no idea I could do.
Often I feel like there is a running tally in my head. . .did I weight lift twice a week? Did I do my cardio 3X? Did I eat my 5 servings of fruit and veggies? Did I practice my dance? Did I practice my finger cymbals this week? And on and on, the ceaseless chatter of the mind. But with yoga, it is just here, just now, just this breath and nothing else. It is so very different.