"I say beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes."
-Henry David Thoreau, Walden
I love yoga for all the usual worthy reasons, and I love yoga for some frivolous ones, too.
I am entitled to shop at Lululemon and carry their cool bags.
Toting my pink yoga mat seems to disperse what I call my Senior Cloak of Invisibility.
I ﬁnd I can reach my right hand all the way around to the left side of my head and thus trim my hair more evenly.
I can get a lot closer to my feet to tend to my toenails.
YOGA FOR EVERY BODY
I never thought Yoga could be for me. Stretching was just that—a stretch. I thought it was for ancient Indian gentleman and supple young women with Gumby-like ligaments. I was lured into a class once by an acquaintance. It was full of ladies who all seemed to be showing off and showing me up! (And, turning me off.)
Years later, I had the great good luck to encounter Brooks’ class. There I realized it didn’t matter how far I could bend or how long I could balance. I embraced my yoga and did what I could and it was enough. My yoga was my yoga and my classmates’ yoga was their yoga. We’re individuals on our own journeys, yet we’re traveling together. I wish the best for my yoga mates and for me, and that is part of my practice, too.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone