Awkward Moments

I plopped my mat beside a woman-black capris, black tank top, purple mat. We start our vinyasa practice and slide into twisted crescent lunge. The woman wobbles, grunts, and makes uncomfortable rumblings to herself. We ascend back to crescent lunge and then flow into Warrior III. Again, she stumbles, grunts around, and then look at me, her eyes pleading, “Help! I feel like an idiot.” Her eyes had the same expression that my traumatic brain injury patient looked at me with as my patient laid in bed, projectile vomiting, unable to communicate her problem. I simply smiled at the woman who was flailing around on her mat. The class, in unison, turned to face the sidewall and we bowed down into wide-legged forward bend. As gravity pulled this same woman down toward her mat, her feet teetered and slid back closer to the back edge of her mat-with each stumble her spandexed ass crept closer to my face. I looked between my legs, closed my eyes and thought of a happy place. At the close of our practice, we laid back in a reclining twist. The class was full, mats were tight, and her arms hovered directly over my body. Her arms shook as she held them suspended above my torso, oblivious to the rest of the class positioning their arms above their heads on the ground, in order to avoid hitting the person next to them. I am wondering now, should I have said something to this woman so she would not violate the person beside her in her next yoga class? I am glad to have had the opportunity to practice yoga next to this woman, but displeased with myself for not having found some way to make her feel more welcomed and understand the practice.

Connected

I hike to the top, lay out on a red warm rock and feel the sun on my skin. The rock over-looks the Green River; I can hear the birds and the wind. Now this is a sun salutation. Arms stretched up high, face at the sky, I am connected. My intention-to vibrate with the universe. Hands in prayer position then down on the ground; I spring back to plank. I feel strong. My arms could hold me in this position for a long time. I sink into the first downward dog of the day, after rowing down the river all morning-the stretch in the back of my legs and the sun still draping over my skin makes me sink deeper into the earth. I return to plank, because I am strong. The sun invigorates my muscles and the plank that I so usually dread holding for such a long time, calls me to sustain the asana, I accept with baited breath. Minutes pass as I move from pose to pose, the sun sits softly on my skin and the wind cools me as the sun begins to set. My long sleeves go on and I lay, still, connected, focused, intent.  I hum with the universe.