So, tonight I went to a yoga class at the Vibe Yoga Studio, where I've spent at least an hour of my life for the past three four nights. I've attended two hot yoga classes, already, as well as one pilates class and tonight, a meditation class. I've never been very good at meditation. I have trouble steadying my breath, and it doesn't help that I have sinus problems. A day with a clear nose is rare for me. But sometimes it happens. And there have been a few precious times when I have tried to meditate and succeeded.
Once was in the living room at my old house on Grant Street. I lived there with my dear friends Stacy and Mike. I was sitting on the shag carpet after a series of yoga poses. When my legs crossed and my eyes closed, it took no effort. I suddenly slipped into a deep, quiet trance in which I felt I was sinking into my own gut, hovering there warm and mystically suspended. I couldn't hear anything but my own breath and the hum of the blood in my veins. It's a feeling of being completely detached and tuned in. Those things may seem contradicting, but I mean detached from the world, tuned into myself.
Another time occured in the same house, in the same living room on the same shag carpet when Stacy and I sat across from one another and attempted some energy work. I placed my hands face up and she hovered hers face down above them. We could feel the flow of my energy into her, and vice versa. Suddenly I felt like I was being pulled gently by a string from between my shoulder blades. I was floating up and out. A feeling of weightlessness took me, and I heard Stacy say, "It looks like you're floating."
Tonight I sat with five others in a dimly lit room with white walls and hardwood floors. A giant gong sat at the front of the room next to the teacher, who wore all white. She was full, strong, like a tree trunk when she stood, and when she sat. She seemed to glow a light purple. Her brown hair was held back by a chopstick. The class began with breathing exercises, a lot of rapid inhaling and exhaling - again, not easy for me with nasal problems. During the last twenty minutes we lay on our backs and she turned down the lights and she beat on the gong softly with a padded mallet. It echoed through the room with such force and resonance that I didn't think it was real. And while I tried desperately to let the waves of sound to wash over me and lull me into a deep trance, it only lulled me to sleep.
ZZzzzZzZzzz.
I wondered if anyone else had fallen asleep, too. No matter. It felt good.
