9:03 p.m. - Monday, Jul. 23, 2012
Exposure
It's a cramping sensation. A sudden retraction of the muscles. As if they are bracing for impact.
It was a restorative yoga class. All the asanas are supported by blankets, bolsters, and blocks to allow the body to fully open. I love this class. During the school year, I loved it because I could feel how tense the body becomes during a work day - even if the day wasn't stressful. It never ceased to amaze me how I could feel the tension fall into the wooden floorboards the minute I turned my palms upward. And I loved it in the summer because I worked my body so hard every other day of the week. Running longer and harder, pushing my muscles with more intense resistance workouts, increasing the level of my yoga practice. And I love it now because in the midst of a "memorial" fast - it honors the restorative nature of my non-eating.
We were settling into a supported child's pose. My hips open, my weight supported by a pile of folded blankets, my cheek resting on the soft, warm cotton. Arms hugging the pile below me.
It's a cramping sensation. A sudden retraction of the muscles. As if they are bracing for impact.
I opened my eyes in an attempt to disconnect from the body. I wanted to escape. My gaze shifted to the door. Everything in my body wanted to get up and bolt. Vulnerability, exposure, defenselessness . . .I studied the paper cranes hanging from the ceiling as my cheeks flushed with shame. As if the whole room could suddenly see into my soul.
Sometimes there are moments like this in yoga. I don't know what they are, what they mean, what to do with them. I just feel them.
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