It’s only been a few weeks since my bout with bronchitis but I can feel my body wasting away. I find the energy for an open flow yoga class.
The studio is around the corner from the treehouse. In recent months, the owners have expanded the footprint to include another studio space. The entrance is on a side street and the neighboring buildings muffle the hustle and bustle of the nearby shopping district.
Credit: KatjaFiona @pixaby – Buddha Zen
The room itself is fluid, and there is a lightness from the wall of plate glass windows even with the privacy screens. The branches of a cherry blossom tree stretch toward the glass as if engaged in a round of partner yoga. Spring wants to be here, too.
Alia talks about how the practice of yoga extends beyond the experience of the mat into how we approach our daily lives. She leads the class in a light meditation and asks us to set an intention before we begin with the Om mantra.
We breathe in through our nose, then exhale through our mouth with a sigh.
Sometimes I feel like I have extrasensory perception (ESP), a mild clairvoyance for finding things, things that are lost. Like keys, notebooks, metrocards, a charm bracelet, a ring. Things hoping to be found amid the camouflage of my belongings. Metrocards in jean pockets, books kicked under couches, car keys frosting in the freezer door. Just this morning, as I walked out the door I realized my work ID had gone missing. After a 10-second frantic search with no immediate results, I paused trying to remember where I saw it last, like a futile game of hide and seek.
I try not to sweat the small stuff, the hiccups of inconvenience. I count to ten and take deep meditative breaths to clear my mind. Sometimes this works, sometimes not. Most times I find my mind wandering, redirecting itself toward the mundane. Cleaning up cluttered counters, retrieving wet towels from the bathroom floor, hanging up clothes that find themselves on doorknobs instead of the closet. The big reveal: a bright orange lanyard branded my photo dangling from its loop.
These small moments of knowing without knowing make me wonder about coincidence, luck, fate–and whatever other word you might conjure. I don’t question the wondering, some things are just meant to be intangible. I leave the small stuff to itself and revel in its karmic beauty.
As for the big stuff, I don’t sweat that either…I know St. Jude’s got my back.