Image via irreleph-ant.tumblr.com
Every yogi knows that there is very little in life that compares to the way that you feel after taking a yoga class. Personally, I think that the sense of connection, openness, awareness, and relaxation that I feel post-savasana just can't be beat. It's such a special feeling, and you know that only other yogis can relate to it...its kind of like our little secret ;)
So, last night, at our front desk team retreat at Tranquil Space, we had everyone create or bring something that represented how they feel after taking a yoga class. It was really neat to see what people brought (a haiku, a collage, origami birds strung together, zen-like photographs, amazing baked good and dishes, a CD/playlist, etc.), but I was even more inspired by hearing the words everyone used to describe why they made what they made, or how they feel after a class. Words like, "on cloud nine," peace, relaxation, yummy, meditative, cleansed, beautiful, mushy, gooey and grounded. As I thought more about it, I realized that it's all about this moment--this feeling--and that this is what keeps us all coming back, what brings us all together, and builds a yoga community. Now don't get me wrong, the physical asana is amazing and very powerful, too, but it's this sense of letting go and openness that we all learn to crave. Or at least, that I crave.
So what words or images represent how you feel after taking a class? Think about it--if you had to sum it up, or create something that symbolizes your post-yoga glow, what would it be? Why?
So, last night, at our front desk team retreat at Tranquil Space, we had everyone create or bring something that represented how they feel after taking a yoga class. It was really neat to see what people brought (a haiku, a collage, origami birds strung together, zen-like photographs, amazing baked good and dishes, a CD/playlist, etc.), but I was even more inspired by hearing the words everyone used to describe why they made what they made, or how they feel after a class. Words like, "on cloud nine," peace, relaxation, yummy, meditative, cleansed, beautiful, mushy, gooey and grounded. As I thought more about it, I realized that it's all about this moment--this feeling--and that this is what keeps us all coming back, what brings us all together, and builds a yoga community. Now don't get me wrong, the physical asana is amazing and very powerful, too, but it's this sense of letting go and openness that we all learn to crave. Or at least, that I crave.
So what words or images represent how you feel after taking a class? Think about it--if you had to sum it up, or create something that symbolizes your post-yoga glow, what would it be? Why?
Image via sentimentai.wordpress.com
Recently, my Dad (who is a very talented poet, if I do say so myself!), has been writing a series of poems about savasana. It's turned into what we like to call his "Savasana Collection," and I think it's incredible. Each poem is different, and thus shows the many types of experiences we can have in savasana at the end of a yoga class. So, because I'm such a big fan, I wanted to share three today:
| Savasana 6, January 31, 2012 Having come from spending the night in the hospital in the fold out chair, and after first being asked to set my concerns aside to make way for the breath, for the life force that keeps me going, and after the lunges, planks, cobras, forward folds, warriors one, two, three, and peaceful, and the chair with its twist and the side angle pose, and after attempting to keep my shins hugging the midline while my femurs spread wider, and trying to plug my arms deep into their shoulder sockets, when I lie down and let go and find the stillness of savasana, the first words that rise up are praise for my body: “O, you good horse--thanks for all you have done.” Savasana 11, March 22, 2012 Something about money-- something about Bruce Springsteen-- something about the engine of my cells in the spiraling of the galaxy-- All lost, unfinished, let go of, into savasana | Savasana 1: Stretching Fence Lying flat on my back after yoga’s hour, the overhead fan touches me with moving air and I remember: my son and I were putting up fence-- now before you go and get the wrong idea, don’t fill in some western or rural scene of rugged men working hard out of necessity, with him and me in dusty boots and jeans-- I’m a psychologist and he’s a college student and we were in Atlanta, in our smallish backyard, stretching hogwire across pounded-in metal fence posts to hem in our dog, but wait, wait, don’t get the other wrong idea either-- we were working hard and since it was July we were soaked through-- the sweat was real, the mosquitoes too-- and I’m remembering the way a touch of wind started up and, ushered in by the light applause of oak leaves above, brushed by Patrick and me, cooled us off as we stopped and leaned on the sledgehammer and shovel, and paused for the little blessing of a breeze. Just that. |
I hope you think they're as beautiful as I do. There are 13 total now, and I think that they show the many places our mind can be in savasana--in total stillness, wandering through a memory brought on by a sensory detail, making a list, feeling gratitude for our bodies or for our breath, or nothingness.
My challenge to you today? Try to live with a sense of savasana--with a sense of being able to let go, with a sense of connectedness, with a sense of awareness. Just that.
I'll be doing the same :)
Namaste!
Mary Catherine
My challenge to you today? Try to live with a sense of savasana--with a sense of being able to let go, with a sense of connectedness, with a sense of awareness. Just that.
I'll be doing the same :)
Namaste!
Mary Catherine
