I love the porch at my new apartment. It’s secluded enough so I can sunbathe in the au natural and large enough for me to pursue one of my favorite hobbies: yoga.
When I was 16 I took my first yoga class and hated it. I didn’t understand the concept, nor how my very (at the time) athletic body couldn’t maneuver itself around. It took a few tries for me to really get into it, but since 19 I’ve been practicing and during my junior year in college I started freelance teaching; I can’t wait to start again, once I’ve established some roots in Waterbury.
I’m not a perfect yogini. I don’t practice every day (thankfully I have writing to keep me sane) and when I do practice on my own I’m certainly not working for an hour. Instead I get in 15-30 minutes of headstanding play, some handstands, and seated postures to open up the rarely loved areas of the body.
Head stands come very easily to me, so I can really have fun playing around in them. The day sometimes gets better when you flip it upside down.
Handstanding is up in the air. One session it’s like I’m still eight years old and enrolled in gymnastics. Other days my back has enough motion to out wobble those creepy, inflatable things outside of car dealerships.
It’s easy to fall into the bad habit of “chasing” positions. But I admit I chase this one with inappropriate amounts of gusto. It’ll be that obnoxious “trick” I pull out when I’m craving attention and my ego will only be stopped once I inevitably split a pair of jeans doing it public.
Love (and namaste!),