Growing Up
I often remind myself to act my age. "You are 31, for goodness sakes!" I mentally scold myself whenever I feel I have behaved or spoken in way that appears less than adult.
That is until I go to yoga class. There, I will myself to return to my younger days.
Back in high school, my mother and I took a yoga class once a week. The teacher had a calm, sweet demeanor and could move like the cat but best of all she declared I was like a Gumby. Meaning I was flexible and loose like the clay character. It thrilled me to know I had this quality.
Twenty years later, things have changed. But when I am in the Saturday's yoga class, I dedicate myself to turning back the clock. My legs may scream when we do forward folds and my hips wail while attempting the triangle pose but I don't care. By gum I am going to touch the floor and reach for the ceiling just like I did as a 17-year-old.
Maybe I am not the only one who wishes to hold onto a piece of their youth. Today, the instructor led us into the bridge pose - the pose of everyone's childhood. When I was kid, I couldn't do a backward somersault or a forward flip but I could do bridges.
So this morning I bent my arms and knees fully determined to do this bridge. Things didn't quite work out. My head dragged on the floor and I couldn't find the strength to hoist myself up. So I just collapsed in defeat.
It was a different story for the woman next to me. She could do the pose so effortlessly. Even the instructor commented on it. The woman proudly commented that her young daughter really admired her bridge posing skills; in fact, her daughter would come into yoga class and do the exercises alongside her.
I envy this woman; to be able to grow up but still possess that piece of her younger days.
That is until I go to yoga class. There, I will myself to return to my younger days.
Back in high school, my mother and I took a yoga class once a week. The teacher had a calm, sweet demeanor and could move like the cat but best of all she declared I was like a Gumby. Meaning I was flexible and loose like the clay character. It thrilled me to know I had this quality.
Twenty years later, things have changed. But when I am in the Saturday's yoga class, I dedicate myself to turning back the clock. My legs may scream when we do forward folds and my hips wail while attempting the triangle pose but I don't care. By gum I am going to touch the floor and reach for the ceiling just like I did as a 17-year-old.
Maybe I am not the only one who wishes to hold onto a piece of their youth. Today, the instructor led us into the bridge pose - the pose of everyone's childhood. When I was kid, I couldn't do a backward somersault or a forward flip but I could do bridges.
So this morning I bent my arms and knees fully determined to do this bridge. Things didn't quite work out. My head dragged on the floor and I couldn't find the strength to hoist myself up. So I just collapsed in defeat.
It was a different story for the woman next to me. She could do the pose so effortlessly. Even the instructor commented on it. The woman proudly commented that her young daughter really admired her bridge posing skills; in fact, her daughter would come into yoga class and do the exercises alongside her.
I envy this woman; to be able to grow up but still possess that piece of her younger days.
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