It may be rainy, gray, & cold outside but I choose not to let it spoil my day. For today is a good day already, I know this. I have chosen two activities which will fill me with warmth and who knows how much more?
I am picking up my dear friend Eileen. She has been mostly housebound after foot surgery. We will have lunch at one of our favorite places, Melt, a mostly vegetarian restaurant in my former neighborhood of Northside. It reminds me of Mullanes, a great & funky restaurant downtown whose closing saddened many people. So, for me, Melt is my new Mullanes. I love to support Northside and I love all the choices I get at Melt.
Then, tonight is yoga class with Melissa. I claim she has near magical powers since she helped me like yoga after dismissing it for literally decades. Now I love it, probably mostly because it quiets the ego and allows me to surrender to the asana. Although I often begin with stiffness, I almost always find flexibility by the end of class. This is a good thing!
All of these lead me to poem #5:
We stretch ourselves with our noontime questions.
Lodged in my body, the unanswerable ones
gently release themselves during evening yoga.
Last night in yoga class, Melissa complimented me. She rarely walks around the room to gently correct someone. Since there were new people, she may have felt she needed to check on us. I was positioned in downward dog and, evidently, my form was good because Melissa came up to me, touched my back lightly, and said, “Perfect. Beautiful.”
“Perfect. Beautiful.” “Perfect. Beautiful.” I mean, she could have said “good, Phebe” but she said, “perfect. Beautiful.”
I realize I was born “perfect. Beautiful.” How many times must I be reminded before I really believe it? How often do I truly believe in my inner divinity? I know Melissa meant it that my downward dog was lookin’ good, still, it is perfectly beautiful if I take it in on a deeper level as well.
This morning when I was stretching I thought of her: I really like the person Melissa seems to be. She says she thinks of herself not as our teacher as much as our facilitator. Such humility. I appreciate the atmosphere she sets for our class: surrender instead of struggle, and commit to self-care through yoga. How synchronistic that I selected self-care as my New Year’s Resolution!
After class, I wanted to tell her I ‘get’ downward dog because I live with two dogs, do ya think? But another student paused to ask her something so I walked up the stairs of the Y and floated out into the mist toward my car.