When I walked into a new yoga studio last night, I wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't one single room, dimly lit, with soft tribal music playing and only five or six other students. My only other experience with studio yoga had been at my university's health center, and those classes were free, so they were always jam-packed with stressed out kids. The instructor for the evening was a tiny, brightly clad woman with crazy curly grey hair and a thick Boston accent. She began the class asking us to approach our practice with the intention of doing no harm to our bodies. I know this must be a pretty common practice in the yoga world, but for me, it's kind of...foreign. The two physical activities I love the most, drum corps colorguard and ballet, are anything but kind to the body. I think there's an element of all physical activity that I've become accustomed to: getting my ass kicked a little, working hard, OVERworking. It never occurs to me that that isn't the only way to approach health and fitness, and really, I should probably stay away from that mindset for awhile. So I went about this class, telling myself I had to listen to my body. Do no harm. Okay, I could do that. Couldn't I? Holding warrior poses, my quads started shaking. The instructor had to tell me twice not to push it, not to over stretch. This was not about increasing flexibility. Turns out, listening to my body is hard, and I tend to ignore it's needs. We ended practice with some intentional breath and thoughts on gratitude, which I was about. I left feeling feeling a little shaky, but worked, in my body, and centered in my heart. Conclusion: I need to do more yoga. Duh.
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