I wrote this on Thursday evening. I took Beth’s 9:30am Vinyasa class at Yogawood Riverton that morning.
The magic happened in yoga class today. I felt the thing that Beth says “keeps people coming back.” I had about 1000 words to describe what happened during savasana, and I repeated them to at least five different people immediately following my class, but now I’m all tuckered out from my day riding on a wave of bliss and I just want to share as much as I can before I fall asleep. So this is what happened, in 999 words or less (maybe).
It wasn’t my best day at class. I was kind of hungry and a little distracted. Someone came in late and I was fixated on that and him for the rest of class. I felt tired, I was sweating too much, and my sports bra wasn’t doing its job. I was basically trying to fulfill my twice-a-week Vinyasa requirement for teacher training and get out of there.
Class was over, and I was on my mat in savasana after a poor showing of shoulder stand. Oh well. Whatever. I HATE savasana. I HATE standing still. It was only on Tuesday night that I decided that I’m just not a person who is ever going to get the meditation thing. Fellow teacher trainee, L, shared a story about seeing colors during a meditation session. Yeah, that’s never gonna be me. I see grocery lists, piles of laundry, and unpaid bills. I see a crying baby who wants her mom to be home and not at yoga, contracts for my dream house, and chicken poop.
The scene: I’m on my back with my lavender eye pillow, limbs outstretched. The music is especially yoga-ish today… I’m listening to that. Summer is probably crying for me right now. I’m going to rush right out of here after class. I wonder how long this is going to last today. I’m so pissed that my energy is so low. I really have to work on getting my core tighter. My boobs hurt – I want to nurse the baby. I hope the Yankees win tonight. I hope we get the house. I really want Taco Bell. But this isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing here. I’m squandering this time thinking of stuff I can’t control; worrying about places I can’t be right now. Right now. Right now. You’re supposed to be here, Rebekah, expressing gratitude for this moment, opening yourself up to the gifts of the Universe. Be! Here! Now!
And that’s exactly when it happened. I was in Jamaica, floating on top of the salty water. I was in the studio, grinning to myself. I was floating over myself. I was rooted so deeply in the earth that I was sinking through the floor. It was as if the hand of God was hovering over me, drawing my body closer like a magnet, but the gravity of my thoughts were pulling me down. It was a blissful tug of war. I was weightless – in body and spirit.
I wondered if I was dreaming, because I’ve been known to fall asleep once or a hundred times at the end of class. But I was awake, floating on the wave. And when Beth started to call us back, I kept going. The crown of my head drew even further away from my body and I felt outstretched. I felt like I was smiling, but every muscle in my body was completely relaxed. Beth’s instructions became clearer and I started to follow her, reluctantly. I drew my legs in, rolled onto my right side, pushed myself up to sit and raised my head.
A rush of excitement came over me, and I wanted to jump up and share what had just happened. I looked around the room, unable to speak the words right away. I looked at R, sitting next to me and then at M, rolling her mat up across the room. I think I started babbling excitedly. Then finally I searched the room for E. But as I hurriedly began to repeat my story, I noticed that he was already smiling back. He knew what was up.
That’s what keeps them coming back.
I got home feeling like I was wearing a heavenly suit of armor that shielded me from every bit of negativity, inside and out. Every worry, every fear that I carry with me 24 hours a day disappeared. Every bit of my anxious nature, the characteristic that has defined the person I have been for 33 years, disappeared without a trace. A space has been cleared and is ready to be filled with colossal amounts of sunshine, awesomeness, and dedication to keeping that space open to receive.
Watch out. Big things are on the horizon.