Saturday, August 17, 2013

8/17/2013 Yoga on the Rocks

I had talked myself out of going repeatedly. I'm only vaguely familiar with a few yoga poses. No one I knew was going. I hadn't done laundry and would have to scrounge for something to wear. The weekend was already stocked with the standard chores, getting Emily back to the airport for her flight home to Oregon, the Aurora Rises charity event tonight, doing the first session of Sam's senior pictures, having a girl's night with Amber . . .  I should just sleep in. 

And the main reason was: it made me anxious.

So that's why I had to go. 

I laid out clothes and printed the liability release form and punched the button on the alarm because if the idea of going was pushing me out of my comfort zone, then it was something I needed to pursue. 

Then the alarm didn't go off. 

Half an hour after I should have been up, as I woke startled, I thought again: "Just stay in bed. It's Saturday."

So I got up and went anyway. 

I managed to leave the liability form behind and sighed, thinking there would be a nice long line to fill another one out now. Deep breath. 

Somehow, although my calculations for the alarm were intended to coincide with arriving right before sunrise (and long before the yoga), all the while on the drive there sure it would be soaring up majestically up in that half hour I'd overslept, there it was, waiting for me, as I got out of my car in the parking lot, having just turned its brilliant pink orb on for the show. (Terrible sentence, I know.)

There was no line to get in. 

And so I took my spot at the top of the amphitheater, and watched. Sam and I will be at Red Rocks for the Sara Bareilles concert a week from Thursday and I told her: no early line waiting or rushing to grab seats down front this time. Top row, watching the sunset, and listening to our favorite songs fly out across the plains behind Denver is how we're doing it. It is a completely different experience and one she's never had. Even sitting atop a mostly empty amphitheater, you can feel the magic. 

I digress (naturally.)

People of all shapes and sizes were filing into the rows below me. Some wore the expensive yoga clothes, some wore cotton shorts; some had super fancy mats, others only a worn blanket to spread out. A few nearby went from basic stretching into difficult poses, and I tried to think positive thoughts instead of wondering at the need to show off. Others plopped down and just stared off into the clouds, like me. 

Linda from Conifer took the row in front of me and we chatted a bit. She'd been practicing yoga for several years and preferred the "hot" version, which sounds like absolute torture to me. 105° in the studio?!? Give me this fresh air with the wind blowing my pony tail in crazy directions any day. 

We started a bit late, owing to the line that did build at the release form table later on which backed up a lot of participants' entry. Hard to make an educated guess, but by the number of rows and a general count of how many mats fit across, there were probably 1500 of us this morning, raising our arms in mountain pose, bowing in child pose, beautiful in warrior pose. 

I was thankful to have Linda in front of me to follow when the terms got unfamiliar.

The long moments of silence, eyes closed, sun on my face, amid that calming energy, the opening of my eyes to the sacred rocks towering over me, and the white clouds against the blue Colorado sky made me so very grateful: grateful for going in spite of nerves, grateful for living in this amazing place, grateful for the air that fills my lungs, grateful for the body that continues to improve and heal and surprise me, grateful for the signs all around me that lift me up and remind me that I am a child of the Universe, no less than the trees and the stars, and I have a right to be here, feeling what I do, being who I am. 


A few photos from the morning:


Post a Comment