I was fired up to go to Hot Yoga this morning. I haven’t gone since June and today was the first day of my Get Healthy Competition I am doing with 8 other moms. We are doing the Game On Diet and I am determined to put myself first. This means eating healthy, taking time for me to exercise and fill my soul each day with things that give me joy.
Waiting outside of class, there were now ten of us. Waiting. Either the yoga instructor forgot or slept in. As the clock neared 7 am, bodies left. I was determined to wait. I visualized the teacher showing up. I needed to sweat today and this was the only time during the day that it would work. Another yogini reached the other studio by cell phone…instructor was on her way…would just be 15 minutes late. Excellent.
In class I was being gentle with myself, slowly remembering how to do the poses. When it came time for Camel, I was happy just bending back my head to see the ceiling. I didn’t need to bend backwards today and see the floor with my eyes. But Holy Moses. Even that smaller move, made me dizzy, light headed, close to nauseous. I let myself lay down in the Corpse Pose while the others did a second set of Camel.
That’s when dad showed up again. To catch you up, if you’re new to me and this blog, my dad died 7 years ago and showed up in yoga class last spring, during the Camel Pose. This time instead of encouraging me to bend back more, he lay down beside me and held my hand. The tears burst out of me like a leaky faucet. The yoga instructor reminded us that we should let go of whatever emotions were coming up and that it was normal to experience a variety of feelings and then she came over, knelt down beside me and squeezed my hand.
My tears were a definite reminder that this was where I was supposed to be. I needed to stand in front of a mirror for over an hour, push my body, love it, be gentle with it…and let go.
It’s good to be back in my skin. My sweaty, stinky skin.