I go to yoga class with a bucket full of expectations. Fortunately, these are (almost) always met, which is why I fill the bucket to the brim. It's also why I go NUTS when they're not.
The yoga studio is the place, as in The Place, where I go to meditate. to pray. the space. the heated room. no chatting. no telephone. no email. no snacks. just The Purple Mat.
Classes are pretty good. I work my skinny arms doing on-the-knees chaturangas. Tree and Eagle challenge legs and equilibrium. A few toxins melt out. Sometimes a teacher reads a poem or scriptural advice on right living.
But it's all about the first ten minutes.
I crave the quiet mat time before class when I fall into healing meditation. Healing for myself. Healing on behalf of others. I put my hand on my belly and connect with that which is larger than myself.
And God has never yet missed this ten-minute appointment.
The yoga studio is the place, as in The Place, where I go to meditate. to pray. the space. the heated room. no chatting. no telephone. no email. no snacks. just The Purple Mat.
Classes are pretty good. I work my skinny arms doing on-the-knees chaturangas. Tree and Eagle challenge legs and equilibrium. A few toxins melt out. Sometimes a teacher reads a poem or scriptural advice on right living.
But it's all about the first ten minutes.
I crave the quiet mat time before class when I fall into healing meditation. Healing for myself. Healing on behalf of others. I put my hand on my belly and connect with that which is larger than myself.
And God has never yet missed this ten-minute appointment.
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