Slowly, slowly

July 28th, 2008

I unrolled my yoga mat this morning for the first time since before Little Boy C was born. He is eight months old now; that’s a long time between Downward Facing Dogs. I can’t even call what I did this morning yoga – I did what I used to consider a series of warm-ups before the real yoga positions.

It was a revelation, and not the good kind. I cannot bring my head to my knees – an entire person could fold her torso to her shins in the space left between my forehead and legs. I was dismayed at how shallow my Downward Dogs are, a slight bump on the horizon instead of the sharp precise anglesĀ I used to form. I couldn’t quite remember the sequence of the Sun Salutation and had to glance at my exercise book before I began. I moved through the positions slowly, gingerly. I remembered something Christina once wrote, and rather than berating myself for this sorry state of affairs simply apologized to my body for my months of benign neglect. It’s all I could do, besides finishing off the Sun Salutations.

But as I did the exercises I could feel my body remembering, making small adjustments, striving for perfect posture. I’m a beginnner again, no doubt about it, but the person who practiced yoga for years still lives inside my body. And when I finished saluting the sun I felt the familiar tingle of my blood flowing through my body. And when I took my shower my posture was a little better than yesterday.


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