Keeping promises

Not my experience with Yoga but there were some similarities

With Thanksgiving as a signpost towards Christmas and eventually the New Year, it seems an unlikely day to check off a resolution that I made for 2012. Let’s be honest, who even remembers their New Year’s Resolution by St. Patrick’s Day? A slim few, most have forgotten them before heart-shaped box of candies are swallowed before the Altar of Honey-Boo-Boo but nevertheless, I checked something off my list I thought I’d never do: I participated in a Yoga Class.
“Don’t worry if you can’t do all of the poses, just do what you can,” said my instructor, Theresa Conroy, owner of Yoga On The Ridge.
Conroy, a former Daily News scribe, opened her yoga studio a few years ago. She recently moved its location to Domino La this year. She and some mutual friends had often repeatedly asked me to join in taking the class. I relented until a few days before Thanksgiving when I received Theresa’s Newsletter that offered Thanksgiving Day class for only $10. For $10? Why not? I had nothing else planned except an evening of awkward silences, superficial conversation and moderate gluttony.
Theresa was definitely surprised to see me.
It has been a year of great highs and lows. I had finally overcome seizures that had been plaguing me since the summer of 2011 and therefore received by Driver’s License. I had become gainfully employed again. I had been diagnosed with Sleep Apnea and my therapy had made me more energetic to the point where I try to exercise regularly.  But there are always two sides to every coin. My mother is fighting cancer that has metastasized to her lungs and liver. She had lost an eye to melanoma the previous year. I was also dealing with some more immediate repercussions regarding my own tactless nature that may destroy a friendship. So taking a yoga class couldn’t hurt.
Now, I realize that there are a multiple of Yoga styles. Theresa’s style is “kind of a hybrid--mostly Vinyasa, with a good smattering of Iyengar and Core Strength Vinyasa.” (I don’t know what any of that means either.)
So what is it like to take Theresa’s class? Well, if anyone remembers warm-up stretches before sports practice; it’s kind of like that but in Very, VERY slow motion. The class was heavily attended. I placed my purple mat near the front. I realized that this meant that many in the class would see my posterior (upon which IMAX films could be screened), but I think it sexy enough compared to others that are out there.  My spot was also near a wall. This was advantageous since I am built like a Weeble-Wobble but unlike that particular toy, I will roll over anytime. (And I almost did a couple times.)
While I was taking the yoga class, I noticed how warm the room was but also the calming mix of music was interesting. I often play Genesis when I am relaxing.
I learned holding some of these poses was hard. My arms shook with effort to hold my body up at times. My knees still hurt for a few days afterward. I also learned trying not to look at the curves of soccer moms and dads was even harder. (Note to self: Next time I do yoga, I wear sunglasses.)
Often Theresa would mention “Since it’s Thanksgiving, we are going to…” which I think was an excuse to be easy on us or she just was not fussed on doing her regular poses either; which is naturally understandable since this often a day off for working stiffs (with one or two exceptions).  As an added bonus, she even asked the class to participate in a chant, something she never usually does but since this was Thanksgiving…
During this chant, I devised a theory that the English decided to conquer the Indian subcontinent (and the Welsh) not just for shear spite, gold, glory and in search of sunshine but also that they believed that these cultures used far too many syllables to name things and that was just not cricket.
During the cool down phase, I felt like I melted into the floor. I had never felt so relaxed before.
Theresa read Howard Thurman’s poem, “Blessings At Year End’. A piece of which resonated with my and soothed my disturbed emotions that day:

“I remember the new people I have met, from whom I
Have caught glimpses of the meaning of my own life
and the true character of human dignity.

I remember the dreams that haunted me during the
Year, keeping me ever mindful of goals and hopes
which I did not realize but from which I drew
inspiration to sustain my life and keep steady my
purposes.”

Will I return to the yoga mat for another session? The 2013 resolutions have not been written. We’re waiting for the Mayans to clear their calendar.