I have been practicing yoga primarily at home for the past few months.
And almost every day, might I add. (As I pat myself on the back.)
I was starting to have a little bit of an issue with this. There are plenty of classes - and my favorite is free - that I could be attending here in Lexington. But I am really comfortable at home. I have podcasts and videos and sometimes I just do my own thing. But, still. I was feeling like I should be part of a community. Because community is just what I do.
On Saturday, Miranda and I went to yoga at Shaker Village. (You all remember Miranda from her FatBridesmaid days, right?) I was a little nervous. I hadn't practiced with people since Curve Camp, and that was such a special experience. I really didn't know how I'd do in a class since I have gotten so comfortable with my own practice at home.
The first thing I learned? I sigh a lot. When something feels good, I let it be known.
Also? I feel like I know enough to take the modifications that feel good. I know where to put my legs on my hands during flat back to get my back just flat enough. I know that I'm not gonna do a one-armed supported twist during downward dog, so I drop to my knees and thread the needle to get a similar shoulder stretch. My right hip was really really cranky, so I stayed on the floor after class and tried a few stretches to try to get it loose. (Didn't work.)
In the time I have spent practicing yoga in my own house, not only have I learned what makes my body feel good, but somehow I also quit caring about how I look or what others might think. I have started to put my own needs - my own practice - above anything else.
I walked out of that class feeling free and complete and just open.
Well, before we walked out, Miranda and I waved at Nathan from the window like two big dorks. I didn't feel self-conscious about that either. Love is love.