Yoga

I have toyed with the idea of going to a yoga class for years now. A few months ago, I announced to my friends that I’d be starting yoga. That I’d bitten the bullet.

And I still didn’t go. I don’t know what it is about me that makes me not want to start. New and unfamiliar territory doesn’t feel good to me, but once I’ve gone in and made a place for myself I usually feel pretty good (even in the rare cases that I’m feeling good just because I’m getting out of there!). I half-dread the first class. I’m not flexible, not hep to the lingo, unaware of what to do with my body when, and I certainly don’t think I’ll know people there. Would I want to know people there?

I know what I would say to myself were I an outsider giving unsolicited advice. “You’ll be fine! No one’s watching you, they’re busy doing their own thing. If anything, people will be supportive and helpful and glad you’re there.” “Everyone’s at her own level–the instructors understand that.” “Good for you for going–I’m sure it’ll benefit your health.”

Already checked out the environment: asked a friend of mine who goes to the same yoga studio about the lighting situation. Apparently we’re in the clear as far as fluorescents go. Yeehaw!

Today I got a yoga mat from someone on freecycle.org. Next I just have to show a little commitment and go to a class. I need to be dared first. Or paid. Or something! Somehow knowing it’s going to do wonders for my health isn’t enough. What’s wrong with me?

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