Dude. I almost lost it at yoga tonight.
La and I have started a 14-day yoga blitz, trying to jump start a habit and also see if we like the studio. Tonight was day four; we missed class this morning, so we decided to take this evening's "TGIF" class, a mixed level, vigorous practice.
So we were moving from standing poses to handstands towards the end of the 90-minute class. Handstands in the middle of the room, not against a wall.
The teacher walks us through the pose and its modifications for those of us who have never done handstands. Then she starts talking about trusting your ability to support yourself.
My hands are on the mat, wrist creases parallel with the edge of the mat.
My shoulders are on my back and engaged, and I am on my hands and knees. I straighten my legs, walk myself up until I am transferring my weight from the back of my body to my hands, sort of. I stand on the tops of my toes, like a ballerina en pointe. My arms are strong, my gaze is at the floor slightly in front of my hands, and that's as far as I can go.
I can't support myself on my hands; to let go and lift my feet from the floor would be disastrous.
It's a stupid fucking metaphor.
The best I can do at this point is come back to the mat, and support myself on my hands when I can.
And isn't that just the way?
#Time
Xoxo
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