Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Here's a short report from my class last night for yoga teacher training. I spent much of the day beforehand having a lot of intense energy moving around within me. Not exactly sure what was bringing this movement about, but there was no mistaking it. I'd see couples holding hands, and I'd want to cry. I read a blog post about someone who is struggling and wanted to cry. I saw a fat squirrel and laughed so hard people turned to look at me.
Heading in to class, I noticed that none of my core study classmates were there. A few familiar faces were in the room, but no one I had any real connection to. The teacher was one that I really enjoy taking classes from, so that was a relief.
The subject - adjusting twists. Sounds straight forward enough, right?
Well, we started in on some standing twists and I was immediately faced with what you might call "body dyslexia." Switching hands and feet while getting into poses for my partner to practice adjusting. Blanking out on the cues we were just taught. Thoughts of "looking idiotic" to my partner. Trying to take in her comments to me about my adjustments, while also paying attention to where I was standing, how I was breathing, and doing my best to let go of the inner chatter. It didn't help that she had walked right up to me before class, looking me in the eyes, and starting a conversation. What she attracted to me? What's she make of all this fumbling around?
At one point, she said that maybe her asking me to shift adjustments was mostly in her own head, and not necessarily about my adjustments. I responded "We're all learning here. I appreciate the specific feedback."
That was a moment of lucidity in an otherwise muddled class experience.
Near the end of class, her and I sat next to each other, looking out the window. It has been a beautiful spring day and we both commented on wanting to be outside.
Twisting poses are good for, amongst other things, wringing out all the junk - physically and emotionally. It's like ringing out the dirty dish water from a rag.
Leaving class, I kind of felt like that. Rung out. A little exhausted even.
Given all that, biking home with the sun setting and the cool breeze blowing on my right side seemed so appropriate.