Thursday, December 8, 2011
I have been totally enjoying life recently. I have ceased running around like a crazy woman. I work, I work out, I enjoy my life. But recently, I missed yoga. I don't miss studying for yoga certification, taking class, having to drive 30 minutes to meet with my yoga mentor. But I did miss the calm of a yoga class. I missed the peaceful tunes that float around the yoga space. I missed meditation with others and that deeply relaxed feeling when mind and body finally settle.
And, so I tried my first yoga class in months. As I entered the room at the end of a long and busy day, I was happy to see 3 candles flickering away near the instructor's mat. It was a welcoming, peaceful beginning which didn't last long. As the hair on my arms woke up, goose bumps covered my body in the frigid room. Some fan was blowing the air and the instructor seemed unable to get the temperature above freezing. Barefoot with only a top and yoga pants on, I felt like I was taking frost yoga.
I may have been able to forgive the chilly air (I'll bring a fleece jacket next time I thought) but once we began to move into our yoga poses, I started to hear, "We are the people," once, then twice, then three times....that one song, that one phrase, playing over and over and over became Chinese torture to me. I wanted to laugh, run away, and/or smash the CD player. "Breathe in, breathe out. Let you leg float towards Mother Earth," I was directed. Half-listening to her instructions, I looked up at the clock the next time, "We are the people," tortured by ears. I'm checking the next time it starts again, I thought. Maybe I'm delusional. But 6 minutes later as I checked the clock, "We are the people," floated through the air. I wanted to scream. In my hour-long class, which ran 10 minutes long, I heard "We are the people, " some 12 times!
And although the instructor appears to be a perfectly lovely woman, her practice was purely physical, move you leg here, swing your arm this way. I am a somewhat spiritual person. I have always enjoyed yoga philosophy. And nearly every other yoga class I have taken in the years I trained to be a yoga teacher (6), we always ended in at least a 10 minute meditation. Here we posed for 70 minutes on that chilly evening while "We are the people," droned on in the background, over and over! Oy.
In my mind I longed for the yoga classes I took in San Francisco where the instructors chanted and the music was mesmerizing. I may try another studio. But in the meantime, I am going back to doing my own thing. At least I am warm and in control of the tunes I'm listening to.