
My friend Barbara meditates on a brighter beach day.
There is a line in a Bruce Springsteen song that says, "Some day we'll look back on this and it will all seem funny."
That line kept popping in my head today after leading my third yoga beach class at Hammonasset Beach State Park in Madison. The previous two classes were well attended under glorious skies. This one was marred by lousy weather and thunder, which began clapping just as the class was about to begin.
Though the class was technically supposed to be canceled in thunder, I and the handful of students who showed up were eager to have the class. The staff at the Nature Center was gracious and accommodating, moving benches and relocating reptiles so we could have the class indoors. But with a steady flow of parents and toddlers eager to look at snakes and turtles, it quickly became apparent that we would need alternate quarters.
One of the students suggested going downstairs, where more snakes, turtles and gurgling tanks lined the walls. The staff said it was OK as long as we could ignore the vocal parakeet near the front of the room. The setting wasn't ideal, but it made for some interesting cues: "Turn your body toward the snake," was my favorite. I've got to give my students a lot of credit. Besides the less than ideal setting, they ignored the bugs crawling on the floor, the damp concrete floor and the pesky biting flies. And to our surprise, the parakeet was fairly cooperative, only letting out an occasional squawk.
Such are the pitfalls of outdoor yoga. No matter how many times you check Weather.com and scan the sky, you simply can't count on the weather and have to approach it with an open mind. That is what I love about yoga _ dealing with the cards in front of you and making the best of any situation. I just hope next time it doesn't involve flies.
That line kept popping in my head today after leading my third yoga beach class at Hammonasset Beach State Park in Madison. The previous two classes were well attended under glorious skies. This one was marred by lousy weather and thunder, which began clapping just as the class was about to begin.
Though the class was technically supposed to be canceled in thunder, I and the handful of students who showed up were eager to have the class. The staff at the Nature Center was gracious and accommodating, moving benches and relocating reptiles so we could have the class indoors. But with a steady flow of parents and toddlers eager to look at snakes and turtles, it quickly became apparent that we would need alternate quarters.
One of the students suggested going downstairs, where more snakes, turtles and gurgling tanks lined the walls. The staff said it was OK as long as we could ignore the vocal parakeet near the front of the room. The setting wasn't ideal, but it made for some interesting cues: "Turn your body toward the snake," was my favorite. I've got to give my students a lot of credit. Besides the less than ideal setting, they ignored the bugs crawling on the floor, the damp concrete floor and the pesky biting flies. And to our surprise, the parakeet was fairly cooperative, only letting out an occasional squawk.
Such are the pitfalls of outdoor yoga. No matter how many times you check Weather.com and scan the sky, you simply can't count on the weather and have to approach it with an open mind. That is what I love about yoga _ dealing with the cards in front of you and making the best of any situation. I just hope next time it doesn't involve flies.