Okay, maybe it’s not a memoir; it’s really just a blog entry.
I’ve been going to a yoga class at my local gym on and off for about six months. It is hard, but wonderful. Usually when I get there, I’m tired, cold, and hungry (it is held right over the dinner hour). We are told to focus on our breathing, and always to try to do a little better. The class starts, and soon I begin to enjoy myself.
We do many moves, poses, and stretches, and I’ve become substantially more flexible. By mid-class I’ve worked up a light sweat, and I feel energized and strong. The teacher is wonderful, and keeps things simple and calm. She talks almost as if we were meditating.
Before class ends, we close our eyes, breath, and tell ourselves to have clarity of mind, clarity of speech, and clarity of actions. I go home feeling much better.
Enjoying: The First Week
20 hours ago