flexibilty: good and bad

Ughhhhhh. Our toilet is broken. But to tell you the truth, I’m not too pissed about it. Yes, you have to fool with the lever-thingy for about 5 minutes to get the water to stop flushing, and yes, we have told our landlord about 59 times and yes, it’s really annoying to have to “reschedule” mother nature’s call, but you know what???—that’s LIFE—isn’t it great?!! I love the challenges that are in my every single day, like language, directions, relating to people, etc. and even though some days it feels like they are absolute MOUNTAINS instead of the foothills they really are, I would not want it any other way. Being flexible is something so priceless and I have gotten pretty good at this form of art—and it IS an art form because when you can make a positive situation out of a seemingly negative one, you have a gift! You end up giving off a very positive energy and people want to be around you.

Speaking of being flexible and a positive attitude, yoga absolutely SUCKED tonight. It was so miserable. John (my yoga teacher) was on fire today with the poses…I think he got my beginners class confused with the ultra-advanced session, because I stretched so far that I found body parts I never knew I had. And it hurt. Each minute seemed to last an hour and so the total hour and a half class seemed to last about 8 days and I felt afterwards as if I ran a marathon, maybe two, and then given birth. Seriously. What an exhausting session. However while I was trying my hardest to mimic John’s poses and listen at the same time, John spoke about the aim of the class, which was to show us how yoga can teach us about obstacles. He spoke about how frustrating getting into those damn poses can be and often times it’s not even about getting into the pose—it’s about how you deal with the fact that you just plain CAN’T. And today I felt like I was butting my head against a wall time after time and just not getting it, so I guess I got one part of what John was talking about. At one point in the class I burst out laughing because I looked at myself getting all pissed off for no good reason, just the fact that my left elbow couldn't touch my right rear hamstring or some other inhumane position. After class on the walk home I got the second part of it—I understand how much patience it takes and how so many things are processes, and that so often it is not about the finish line, it is about the whole race. I know this story sounds like such a cliché of yoga, but it is the honest truth—sometimes the end doesn’t even matter if you don’t get anything out of the middle or have a good time doing it.

Thank you yoga-master John.