Small Bugs and Big Thoughts

There are fewer little black bugs when the sun isn't shining.  I have proven this, empirically, by placing my yoga mat in the same general area for three consecutive weeks.  I was enjoying the overcast sky, noticing the paucity of crawling creatures, when our Yogi called us to attention.

Welcome!  A cloudy day in Tucson..... (cue snowbirds grumbling)... and don't we love it (cue Tucsonans nodding).

Yes, we do love a change from the sunshine, but just a change.  If this goes on for another day or two we'll all begin to grumble.  But every once in a while, it's nice to be able to look up without squinting into the sun.

It wasn't cold, but it looked like sweater weather and everyone in the class had more than one layer covering their torso.  

I stood next to a pole for the balance poses, and spent some time investigating my inner self.... the one that knows I can't stand on one leg anymore.  That's not true - I've done it quite often, for minutes at a time. But since I've been perforated my mental image has shifted.  Unsure whether I can count on my body to hold me up, I default to staying safe and keep both feet planted.

I'm not thrilled with that mind set.  It gets in the way.  Yet there it is, firmly implanted, my go-to response.  I certainly don't want to fall down; the fear is valid.  But a positive attitude will bring positive results - at least in yoga - and my negativity was tilting me over on my side.

I started tree pose with my palm planted firmly on my post.  I ended with my arms above my head.  My left leg is fully capable of holding me up, of letting me bend forward - a bit - into dancer pose, and it's about time my psyche remembered that.

I give my right leg a pass on tasks like this.  It has a mind of its own, and when it's ready to hold me up it will let me know.  Today, I concentrated on all three foot centers pressing evenly into the ground as my left toes rested on the earth, my heel touching the standing ankle.

I was lost in the moment.

That's what I loved about yoga - being lost in the movement and the mental space.  For the first time in a long time I had it back.

There weren't even any little black bugs to disturb me.  It was blissful.