your legs are teenagers.

yogaHey, y’all. This week marked the last week I had in my old office before we embark on a journey to a new office further north. In preparation, I went to my last yoga class for a while with one of my fave teachers, Jay. I’ve been going to Jay’s classes on and off for a few years now, and whenever I’m in his classes I find myself laughing, and repeating what he’s said as a personal mantra – because his words are funny, but more importantly, true.

In my class with him on Wednesday, he declared that your legs are teenagers. “Your legs, they’re babies. They’re worse than babies, they’re teenagers, ready to stop doing what you told them the minute you take your attention from them.” We had our legs up the wall, and we were in a restorative class seeing as how it was the end of the month.

I love the restorative class once a month as a reset and a reward to a hard month. August was especially rough, having been so hot and having so many changes coming up. So I was glad when I arrived and we spent five minutes in some awesome, delicious poses. There was someone I’d never met in the class, and he kept saying, “So, this is active, my legs are active in this pose?” and it reminded me of how much learning I’ve done since I started doing yoga.

Common reactions I get from people who don’t do yoga when I tell them I do yoga four to five times a week are, “Don’t you get bored? Isn’t that just laying around on the floor? Do you chant?” No, no, and sometimes, are the answers. Yoga comes in many forms and speeds, but it is never boring and it certainly isn’t just laying around on the floor. Even in restorative yoga you’re focused on your body’s position, keeping your hips just so or your legs strong (you gotta watch those teenagers).

Whether you’re doing Iyengar yoga, which focuses deeply on alignment of the body and getting your body to work for you, or you’re moving through Vinyasas for thirty minutes, you’re still giving your body so much – and you’re focused on how your hips align with your ankles, and keeping your collarbone wide and your chest open.

When the ninety minute class was over, I told Jay I wouldn’t see him for a while, since my office was moving. I gave him a big hug, and I teared up as I walked to my car. I know that not going to this class means opportunity for something else, but it’s always sad to end something that makes your whole soul sing.

I can’t wait to find a new class to go to and commit to, but in the meantime I’ll be watching those legs and making sure that I don’t let them do whatever they please.

Thanks for a great practice, wherever you are, Jay!

 

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