I wrote balance. There were these little cards we had to fill out when entering the class. The usual demographic information with the addition of several blank lines left for us to convey the reasons for coming to yoga. I simply wrote the word balance.
Yo took the card and instructed me on where to get my mat. My partner in crime, Cannon, was still completing his card and had yet to remove his shoes so I naturally retrieved his mat as well. This also gave me the opportunity to set him up in the middle of the room while providing myself with a space on the outer edge. Just before class began Cannon grabbed his mat and plopped down next to me. With a big grin he said, "Shea, my feet stink. I don't care if you smell them."
"Gee thanks, Cannon," I laughed.
Therein lay our problem. Cannon and I can barely look at each other without laughing. And we were at yoga. We needed to focus. I didn't want Yo to have to ask us to leave. So I said one last time because I had already warned him, "Cannon, do NOT make me laugh."
Then we both laughed again.
Yo was good. She had this kind face and soothing voice, a very calming presence. Warm, I think. It seemed right that I had entered my first yoga class in a very long time and found myself under her tutelage. With soft music, low lighting and with Yo as our leader we began by studying our breathing.
This is when I found out that although balance may be a long term goal, I need to first learn how to breathe again.
My first baby step toward Green River.