The right yoga teacher arrives . . . . .

I am three months into a relationship with yoga. Sure, I’d tried hatha yoga classes back in the 70’s, I was hip after all. But I always felt pain after the class. All those stretches and contortions were not for me. I got involved in politics and forgot about this physical and spiritual art form.

Until recently. Until I was involved in Siddha Yoga, a meditation & chanting practice influenced by Hinduism. I discovered that yoga means ‘union with the divine.’ I discovered that my years of zen practice didn’t prepare me for this practice of the heart that is Siddha Yoga. Bhakti yoga opened my heart as I heard ‘Jyota se Jyota’ sung/as arati was offered to a shakti-filled picture of Gurumayi. I fell joyfully into a totally new experience. Yoga became an integral part of my life.

I knew I needed to give hatha yoga another chance. It’d be ‘good for me.’ The Universe was smiling as S/he led me to my neighborhood Y. Who would have thought that the yoga teacher who would reach Phebe happened to teach on an evening open in my schedule. After the first class ended, Melissa came up to me. I commented how young most in the class were. She proudly announced that she’d just turned 50! I was impressed by her attitude toward attaining a new decade. We hit it off.

By the third class, I was hooked!

~~~~~~~~~~~ TO BE CONTINUED ~~~~~~~~~~~

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