So hum.
It's been an emotionally eviscerating week and I've been distracted today. I accidentally left my phone at home knowing full well I was expecting a call this afternoon. I got off the elevator on the wrong floor, and got all the way to my office door before I realized where I was. Or rather, where I wasn't.
I got to yoga early and traded excited texts with Anastasia, my beloved god daughter who is staring down the barrel of being 14 years old in December. We chatted about all the things we'll do when she comes to visit me next summer. By the time class started I was scattered but steady. Tristan encouraged us to think about a little phrase, a chant: so hum. It means 'I am that.' I tried to focus: breathe in, so. Breathe out, hum. My emotions have been close to the surface all day, and truth be told I was kind of dreading savasana. Alone in my head with that bubbling brew of my heart and mind. I tried to stay present and breathing almost out of self-defense against it. So hum. I am that.
I found myself a bit impatient but the stretching was good, as always. Tristan had us focus on breathing and say simple chants in folded-up poses. My Dad used to teach us a few yoga poses, and would breathe heartily in ujjayi breath that I always thought was funny sounding. These days I work at it. So hum. As we settled in to rest a thought appeared in my head: my Father would be proud of me.
Abandoning the staying present bit I tried to think of something else, anything to keep myself together. I thought about Burning Man and all the fun I had there. And then I thought about the Temple, and all of the things I have mourned as we burned it. Tears dripped softly onto my yoga mat in the dark.
Where is your strength now, little bird?
Tonight I am fragile
and small.
So hum.
I got to yoga early and traded excited texts with Anastasia, my beloved god daughter who is staring down the barrel of being 14 years old in December. We chatted about all the things we'll do when she comes to visit me next summer. By the time class started I was scattered but steady. Tristan encouraged us to think about a little phrase, a chant: so hum. It means 'I am that.' I tried to focus: breathe in, so. Breathe out, hum. My emotions have been close to the surface all day, and truth be told I was kind of dreading savasana. Alone in my head with that bubbling brew of my heart and mind. I tried to stay present and breathing almost out of self-defense against it. So hum. I am that.
I found myself a bit impatient but the stretching was good, as always. Tristan had us focus on breathing and say simple chants in folded-up poses. My Dad used to teach us a few yoga poses, and would breathe heartily in ujjayi breath that I always thought was funny sounding. These days I work at it. So hum. As we settled in to rest a thought appeared in my head: my Father would be proud of me.
Abandoning the staying present bit I tried to think of something else, anything to keep myself together. I thought about Burning Man and all the fun I had there. And then I thought about the Temple, and all of the things I have mourned as we burned it. Tears dripped softly onto my yoga mat in the dark.
Where is your strength now, little bird?
Tonight I am fragile
and small.
So hum.