If you happen to meander through College Station, Texas, you may see some smoke on the horizon. I know. Something should probably be done about it. After all, that could be dangerous. But if you follow that smoke cloud to its source, you’ll see that it’s coming from this brown-haired, brown-eyed girl’s head. Yep, it’s me, guys. My head is spontaneously combusting.
Don’t you ever have these spans of time where you feel like the world is pressing in on every side? Breathing is only so satisfying when your heart is racing from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. I daydream about sleeping on clouds because I want to be weightless. I want to be free of the burdens I’ve piled on my back. I want to take a second to escape this world and merely exist as a being, breathing deeply and exhaling slowly.
But then I look at my hands. There are two of them. I can lift both heavy weights and fragile miniatures without so much of a second thought of how to approach that.
I have two legs. They can take me far. They let me walk, run, dance, and leap. They may get sore, but they exist. They are there.
I look at the rest of me. When I look past the imperfections I see, I see a perfectly healthy body and a beautiful creation. I am healthy. I am alive.
This is why I like Yoga. Sure, touching my toes can be a struggle, but I am aware of my body. I’m no expert, but I am finally focusing on my body and finally aware of the blessing of health I have been given.
My junior year of college, I took a Yoga class through Texas A&M, just like I’m taking Hip Hop right now. My favorite pose was always corpse pose at the very end. We would lie down on our backs, completely relaxed and breathing deeply.
It was an 8am class however. Sometimes people would get so relaxed during corpse pose they would fall asleep. Once I woke up abruptly to what I thought was thunder. Until I realized it was someone snoring. Loudly. I think the mirrors were shaking. I was convulsing violently with tears streaming down my face as I struggled (unsuccessfully) to hold in my laughter.
But yoga was my cloud. I was weightless and merely existing. It was an escape. I was finally able to rest from all the burdens I didn’t even realize I was carrying, and it allowed me to pick up my responsibilities once again feeling stronger. I was reminded of what my body is made of, and inspired to show the world what I was made of as well.