So I got sucked into the yoga scene on my last few weeks in Boston. I thought I would really hate it. For one thing: it’s an activity that you can’t win at. For another: I have little patience in meditating on my “inner light.” Needless to say, I’m a sucker for free things and promotional deals. I went with my lovely friend whose kept me grounded in this awesome city.
The first class we tried was called “Afro Flow Yoga.” It was epic. Led by a stunningly gorgeous and incredibly personable Jamaican-Canadian woman--who I had an instant girl-crush on—and her partner who played African drums for the entire 1.5 hours. She blended African dancing techniques with yoga and I totally sucked at it. My hips don’t move in that effortlessly sexy way, but it totally didn’t matter. It was fun to relax and go with the flow…so to speak.
Next day: aerial yoga. Taught by a circus performer. We did yoga in the air in hanging silk material. Enough said.
The rest of the two weeks were a little less dramatic, but just as rewarding. And what I’ve gotten out of it has been much more than being able to consistently touch my toes (yes…I am really that inflexible). I’ve learned that yoga is often about being comfortable in uncomfortable positions and situations. That breathing into the discomfort and practicing to embrace it is really a rewarding challenge. I had a huge accomplishment in the second week when I went through an entire class and DIDN’T GET PISSED ONCE. I know this sounds funny—but it’s from the fact that I don’t like doing things I’m not good at. I like to win. I like to be the best. I like to push myself and go the farthest than anyone else. Just ask my hiking friends.
But in yoga—I practice at not being awesome. And that’s just it: practice.
