
You've got to love Weather.com.
With Saturday's class quickly approaching, I looked out the window around 6 a.m. and seeing wet pavement, figured I should check in with Weather.com. With zero percent chance of rain in the forecast _ hey, you can't get more definitive than that! _ I headed over to the class eager to share poses to open the third, or throat, chakra. There was a light sprinkle as I drove toward Chaffinch Island Park and I thought about nearby shelters: the overhang near the entrance of Calvin Leete School or the famous gazebo at the Guilford Fairgrounds where my son asked his girlfriend to go to the senior prom.
And then I decided to stop trying to control the situation and just deal with everything as it unfolded. That's really all any of us can do in life, and I was happy to take my yoga off my mat instead of focus on the negatives or why nots. Four students awaited me as I rolled into the parking lot, and they didn't seem that fazed by the situation despite rumbles of thunder in the distance throughout the class. They even put up with a light sprinkle, but as they fittingly headed into their second locust, they told me they saw lightning in the distance. We barely had time to pick up our mats and run to the cars before the skies opened up.
As the sound of rain pelted my Honda CRV, we closed our eyes and ended the class in the car. It wasn't glamorous and it wasn't pretty, but at the heart of it is yoga: dealing with what you're faced with in the moment and letting your breath be your ultimate guide. I'm still damp from the experience, but I thank my students Michelle, Carol (above) Sherri and Patsy for coming out in the rain and sharing this experience with me.
P.S. Here are two quotes I wanted to share (my notebook fell during the sprint to the car so I didn't have it in front of me at the end of class):
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes in the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky is by no means a waste of time."
_ John Lubbock
"Listening is a positive act. You have to put yourself out to do it."
With Saturday's class quickly approaching, I looked out the window around 6 a.m. and seeing wet pavement, figured I should check in with Weather.com. With zero percent chance of rain in the forecast _ hey, you can't get more definitive than that! _ I headed over to the class eager to share poses to open the third, or throat, chakra. There was a light sprinkle as I drove toward Chaffinch Island Park and I thought about nearby shelters: the overhang near the entrance of Calvin Leete School or the famous gazebo at the Guilford Fairgrounds where my son asked his girlfriend to go to the senior prom.
And then I decided to stop trying to control the situation and just deal with everything as it unfolded. That's really all any of us can do in life, and I was happy to take my yoga off my mat instead of focus on the negatives or why nots. Four students awaited me as I rolled into the parking lot, and they didn't seem that fazed by the situation despite rumbles of thunder in the distance throughout the class. They even put up with a light sprinkle, but as they fittingly headed into their second locust, they told me they saw lightning in the distance. We barely had time to pick up our mats and run to the cars before the skies opened up.
As the sound of rain pelted my Honda CRV, we closed our eyes and ended the class in the car. It wasn't glamorous and it wasn't pretty, but at the heart of it is yoga: dealing with what you're faced with in the moment and letting your breath be your ultimate guide. I'm still damp from the experience, but I thank my students Michelle, Carol (above) Sherri and Patsy for coming out in the rain and sharing this experience with me.
P.S. Here are two quotes I wanted to share (my notebook fell during the sprint to the car so I didn't have it in front of me at the end of class):
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes in the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky is by no means a waste of time."
_ John Lubbock
"Listening is a positive act. You have to put yourself out to do it."