Yikes. It’s 6:15 and I’m going to be late for yoga! I’ve schlepped to the beach all the way from Hollywood battling 45 minutes of traffic only to circle continuously in a futile attempt to find parking. Ack, I see the line now and it’s HUGE. Will I get a spot?
Every week it’s the same story, LA’s most spiritual beings congregate in one place to heal our bodies, calm our minds and open our hearts”¦ but first, we turn into aggressive freaks vying for 12 square feet of space on which to place our sticky mats. Talk about a Prana paradox.
“I’m sorry, no room here” says that girl whose name I can’t remember from that TV show that got cancelled (Karma baby!). Hmmm, will cute hippie tattoo boy make room? Score! Thank Buddha I’ve made it. Now I can relax, focus and breathe”¦. long deep inhales through the nose”¦. inhale”¦ exhale”¦ inhale”¦
Oy. What is that smell? Someone in my row has not yet been advised that yoga mats are, in fact, washable. I look around to check out the prospective offenders – who could it be? Since we’ve been holding this pose for way too long anyway I get up for a “water refill” to investigate further.
I still haven’t figured out the appropriate etiquette for walking on other people’s mats. If nobody sees me, did it really happen? The teacher’s saintly feet are obviously okay but what about the rest of us mere mortals? As I ponder this pressing issue, I step directly into a puddle of sweat. Gnarly. I walk back on my neighbor’s mat to wipe off my freshly manicured feet and it occurs to me – am I giving him back his sweat or sharing with him some of my own? Or maybe it’s not even a question of “his” or “mine,” but rather, a reminder of our Oneness and commonality.
Wow. I love yoga. It never fails to bring new insights to my life. Joining together with all these groovy people in becoming more loving, accepting and generous humans is what it’s all about. Not to mention sharing our amazing energy with each other ”¦and maybe even a little bit of space!
Om Shanti & Infinite gratitude,