When I was a child and I would turn funny or move something and it would hurt, I would tell my mother "hey it hurts when I do this." She in turn would say "then don't do that." I think of this as I look back and realize that I have now gone to three sessions of Yoga. Yoga is pain. I've said before that you think it's going to be all relaxing. They play soft music. They talk softly. All you are doing is stretching really how bad can it be? Well let me tell you, it's bad. I apparently have muscles, in fact entire muscle groups that I wasn't aware I had. These muscle groups of mine are tired. They have long relaxed with lack of use. Don't misjudge me here. I don't sit on my duff all day eating bon bons and watching soaps. I am active. I walk in the mornings. I run my kids to all these activities. My television doesn't turn on till evening. In fact, on facebook all my farms, restaurants, and pets have probably died or closed due to lack of use. I don't sit idle for long is my point. I can't, its not in my DNA. Even when watching television I have to be doing other things at the same time. To just sit and stare at the screen isn't what I would call entertaining.
I started Yoga last Tuesday completely unprepared for what I was getting myself into. With my volunteering at MOPS every other week I'm not able to make a Thursday class. This week I was there Tuesday and Thursday. In my mind for some reason I thought I'd be able to catch up with the movements we did that first day I went. Not realizing this is a compounding class, I was startled to realize now there are new movements and I will never catch up. Friends have told me that it's easy to progress with Yoga. As you limber up I suppose it gets easier. I have to tell you, I must be the least limber human on this planet. I go through the motions. The entire time my body is screaming at me NOOOOO stop! I don't of course because who wants to be the loser you drops out of Yoga because turning yourself into a triangle feels like a form of military torture? No one. So I stay. I stay and try to remember to breathe. Sometimes I forget with all the holding my shoulders back, pulling my navel to my spine and all the other activating that is required. When you have so much to think about breathing sort of takes a back seat. At least for me it does. Fortunately my friend, the instructor reminds us frequently to breathe otherwise I may just turn blue and black out.
Today we learned the half moon. Not to be mistaken with a full moon which is fun for teenagers in movies while driving down the road. Oh no the half moon requires so much balance ability that I had to find a wall to prop my tired body up against to avoid tipping over and causing a domino effect in the room. So far my favorite is child's pose. Even that can be a small torture in itself as it pulls my shoulders to the point of breaking. This is what is known as a recovery pose. Recovery poses I tend to excel at. Not the corpse pose a.k.a lay down and play dead pose. This requires total relaxation. The moment I completely relax I'm asleep. That's it, the only time. I'm wound tighter than a new yo yo on Christmas morning. That's not to say that I don't or can't have a good time, I absolutely do. I just carry everything all the time.
This is common in motherhood. As a mother of three, two of them being teenage girls, I am in a constant state of tension. Like a dog chasing it's tail, there is always something that needs done or someone who needs to go somewhere, or someone who needs to vent. My mom's taxi cab runs all week long, my laundry is never caught up, my therapy sessions do double duty every other week, and I'm always running out of milk. It's impossible for me to get it all together. So with all that milling around in my head how on earth am I supposed to just lie on the floor and relax all my muscles including the ones in my face? I have no idea. I know how to let go and let God, but He's got better things to do than my laundry so I can relax and read a book or lie on a floor and play dead. You know what I'm saying?
I do like this class though. When the pain and the begging of my muscles stop, I feel better for having done it. The muscles don't lie and mine are telling me "kid you've got some work to do." It's a good pain though. I don't know if I will ever catch up with the Yoga twins. You know the ones right? They have all the attire, they can do all the moves like it's the most natural thing in the world. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to look around, it's a singular thing. You go at your own pace. But that's OK. I've long since given up trying to catch up to anyone else. I think if I can be the best version of me then I'm good with that. Colored hair and crows feet and all, this is me and this is OK.