Right Minded, Left Handed, Not Centered

Last night was another night of yoga. My husband said I’m starting a trend. I replied, “once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence, three times is a dynasty. A trend is when I can get someone else hooked with me.” He laughed back at me. Seriously, I have not returned to  my practice until I simply cannot live without it. For right now, it’s a craving, a search for calm in a sea of frantic. The frenzy of festivities has me worked up, for sure. I want to get to that point when I love my practice more than I need it, if that makes any sense. That will happen. I’m getting back to good. I can feel it.
Last week was all about the thighs. This week my arms felt the burn. Almost everything we did last night was a reminder of how weak and off-balance I really am these days. Spiritually and physically. One armed plank balance was cool, but I learned even if I’m in my right mind, balanced on my left hand, I’m not centered. I have homework to do. I want to be cool, calm and collected to the core… with my core. Left hand where right hand was…yeah, right.

The other issue I had was during the pushups – the ole butt in the air, dip in the back thing…wrong, all wrong. I couldn’t get my back to straighten out no matter how I tried. It felt better to arch…the wrong way. Odd as that may seem. The weird thing is, I can do normal pushups – manstyle – without too much problem. Homework assignment #2. I promise to work on it. Personally, I would also love to work on getting the names of these poses in my head. Ruth can roll them off her tongue but they only bounce out of my brain as though they were made of rubber. I was them to stick so I can own them.

Probably the most valuable piece of this particular class was the box breathing exercise. I had trouble “holding empty” for three counts. My instinct was to gulp air fishlike back into my lungs. Breathing as always been a weird thing with me. When I try to match my breathing to my sleeping husband’s I end up feeling choked and gasping. I don’t know why I can’t relax into his breath and let it become my own. In class we practiced enough times that I was soon feeling the flow. The feeling of fish out of water soon faded, but it took practice.
Practice is all that I need.