Yoga Love

Sep 4, 2012 by admin

After nearly a month of absence, I returned to yoga Saturday morning.  Friday night, with a long, holiday weekend ahead, I excitedly told my husband that I couldn’t wait to get back to the mat.  When Saturday morning rolled around, I lazed on the couch, had a third cup of coffee, facebooked and did everything else to indicate I had no plans, at all, of walking the four blocks to the studio to practice the yoga I’ve missed.  Finally, with the clock winding down, my love reminded me of how much I loved yoga, and of my plans to practice it that morning.  He was right.  I quickly dressed and headed out the door to welcome whatever the experience might bring.  I’m so glad I did.

The studio was crowded.  Mats were pulled and pushed every which way to accommodate the more mats that just kept coming through the door.  Surprising for an early morning . . . holiday weekend at that.  Turns out, there was a reason – a lovely reason – for that.

As the instructor prepared to lead the class, she explained that two of the yogis present were getting married later that weekend, and that as a part of their wedding commitment and celebration, the entire wedding party was practicing with them today.  A round of applause erupted in the studio as the couple stood in the center of it; the tall, handsome groom beamed as the bride slipped on a white garter to match the rest of her white yoga outfit.  There was such a feeling of love, celebration, warmth and sacredness.  “A family that practices together, stays together,” the instructor reminded.

Beautiful.

The bride had provided the class, a music intensity class, with its soundtrack that consisted of the favorite love songs of the couple.  No sooner than did I rest my forehead to my mat, did my tears start to flow.  What an honor to be there.  What a gift to be present, healthy, and in pursuit of whatever my mat had to teach me that day.  And, on such a special occassion.  A celebration of Love.

While Boys II Men crooned “I’ll Make Love to You”, I thought about my own love whose gentle encouragement was the reason I found myself enjoying Warrior 1, and how grateful I was to him for it.  As The Cure teased with “Love Song” I thought about Adele’s version, and how many ways there are to express beauty.  When Candy Man’s “Knockin’ the Boots” started bumping, I thought about the girlfriend who slept with him when he toured Boulder back in the early 90s . . . got nuthin’ else to say about that.

In between the songs that played, the yoga instructor called out “love is” and fellow practitioners responded as led.

Love is . . . present!  Love is . . . red wine!  Love is . . . dancing, fun, yoga, Jesus, necessary, real, in need of love today!  Love!

Finally, when there was no more vinyasa flow, no more crescent lunges to press through, no more eagle poses within which to find balance, we all rested in savasana as Elvis crooned “Love Me Tender” like only he can.

I love yoga.  I love the challenges it presents, the lessons it teaches, the community it creates.  I love how a moment on the mat, struggling to find the strength to maintain a pose, can illuminate moments in life when we are struggling to maintain the position of love, dignity, honor or respect in a difficult situation.  It teaches that you simply do the best you can to search deep within yourself to find the ability, will, or desire to remain in discomfort, until you’re no longer uncomfortable, but surrendered.  Then?  Peace.  And later? Savasana . . . rest. We could all use more of that.

Namaste and Peace and Blessings,

Nic