I'd been practicing at Tamarack with Dave as my main instructor for months but I couldn't tell you what style I was learning. I was there to do and to be: to breathe, to move, to relax, to become one with myself. I wasn't there to dissect Hatha, Vinyasa, Ashtanga, Anusara, Iyengar, Sivananda, or Kripalu. Whatever it was, I was finally on the mat after wanting to begin a practice for a long time. I rearranged my work schedule and went to class three time a week, maybe four if I could make it happen.
I decided that I might possibly maybe try Bikram yoga after a year or so of regular practice. I didn't want to show up and feel feeble, undisciplined or lost. What I had read about the Bikram practice sounded very strict, tightly regimented, and serious. In a 105 degree room, if I wanted some water, I do not want to wait until after Eagle Pose.
I was becoming so comfortable with my practice and appreciative of Dave's style of teaching that I thought for a second about becoming an instructor myself. For now I remain a chela, a student, and I have much to learn about the past, present, and future of yoga.
So Thursday approaches. One of my yoga class buddies and I will meet for a flexibility class with our favorite teacher who also instructs at a studio other than Tamarack. It's been about 6 weeks since my last visit to ZenSpot when I couldn't breathe through my nose. I know as soon as I get my butt back into class, I will be hooked again.
Why don't I practice at home?
I have two dogs and they will do whatever it takes to make me get up off of my mat and yell at them. They want me to yell at them! They will lie on my mat while I am holding a pose and then start play-fighting underneath me. One will lick my face if she can reach it. The other one will start barking and play-fight me. If I close them out of the room, all I hear is scratching and whimpering for the next 15 minutes. Are you kidding me? The commotion they cause is the exact opposite of what I need. I can take them on an hour-long walk and they'll doze off after our return home. As soon as I get on the mat, they act as if they haven't been out in a week! My husband says, "You have to train them." To do what? Ignore me? I don't want to train them, I just want to do some yoga! So I must leave the house, go to a quiet place, and pose like a dolphin, a pigeon, and ironically, a dog.
Why do I continue to drop out of classes?
There was that morning when my credit card wouldn't "go through," and a line of practitioners was forming behind me. I was so distraught, I left and missed class (for weeks). There was the time I stopped going to class for a little while because I tripped over my beagle and smashed my upper arm against the door jamb. Major bruise. I've come down with various maladies that I didn't want to share or I was left too weak to do much more than rest. Currently, timing, as in the starting and ending times of classes I want to go to, doesn't synch with my life. If I was a super practitioner, I'd always have time, but I am not super, not even regular right now.
Granthi: Blockages of energy within the body. Literally, a "knot." In order to experience self-realization, the knots must be released.
From the Bikram's Yoga College of India glossary of terms
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