I haven’t mentioned yoga in a while.  Let’s just say that my yoga practice sort of lapsed over the summer, as in was completely reduced to about a down dog a week, and only that when my back was killing me from carrying the oft mentioned ridiculously heavy baby backpack for longer than was reasonable.  (Reasonable is about 20 minutes.  or less.)  Towards the end of the summer I saw this darling yoga book, and I thought…now, that would have been a good idea.

So, I have been easing back in.  It is so funny to me how something once so essentially a part of your day can get edged out bit by bit, and then you find yourself having to fight the silliest things just to elbow it back into your busy schedule.  At least, this is where I have found myself with yoga.  The obstacles I once was able to overcome to get to yoga two or three times a week all of a sudden seem insurmountable, obstacles like fussy rules about guests at the gym, because I refuse to actually JOIN when I can go with Whitney for $9/class or soccer practice and football practice being at the exact same time or Mary Polly’s having too much homework for me to be gone or I didn’t eat enough breakfast or I want to stay home and bake birthday cakes or fill-in-the-blank.

But this past week, through a series of small miracles, I have been twice to yoga, and I find myself reminded of the fact that I absolutely must not ever ever give this up.  Specifically, I cannot give up Jeanie at the gym, even though the people up at the front want me to.  Stop coming back in here or join the gym. That’s pretty much what they said to me on Monday.  It was a little nicer than that, but still.  I was like, umm, can’t you let me buy like a $100 punch card or something for 10 classes?  I don’t want to do ANYTHING but the classes.  I promise I won’t use any machines or towels or lockers or even the showers!  Please Please Please! And they were like, ummm, no. We are in a bit of a power struggle here.  But I don’t even care and here’s why.  The crazy talking ninety to nothing, head spinning around like a cartoon character, blind-eyed me that went into Jeanie’s yoga class on Monday was not even the same person that came out an hour later.

I have mentioned once or twice that I am pretty much in love with yoga instructors, as a general rule.  They are just special.  And I think that I talk about all of them the way that God talks about people that he loves in that book, The Shack. He/She says I’m especially fond of him or I’m especially fond of her. Like he/she is saying something really unique about that one person, except that he/she says it about everyone.  Well, I am especially fond of Jeanie.

I didn’t think that I was going to yoga on Monday because Whitney’s back has been hurting her, but she decided to go anyway, so I went along with her.  (Yeah, they won’t let me in without Whitney…or some other member who is willing to walk in with me AND listen to me argue my way in, which pretty much just leaves Whitney.)  And at some point in the class, Whitney folded down into child’s pose and put her head down.  Later we were talking about how that is soooo ok in Jeannie’s class.  She will like congratulate you for listening to your body if you stop following her to rest.  This woman oozes kindness, I tell you.  So, I see out of the corner of my eye that even though Jeanie has not missed a beat in calling our next poses, she has stopped her own practice to go over and rub Whitney’s back.  By rub, I actually mean that she is putting all of her weight on the small of Whitney’s back to give her some relief.  And I thought, Oh, I guess Whitney told Jeanie that her back was really hurting today. But oh no. She hadn’t.  This woman’s depth of perception that allows her to truly see the people around her is uncanny.  So many times we will do a move in class that targets an exact spot I need.  Or she will quietly utter the exact words I need to hear at the exact moment I need to hear them.  I don’t think that this is an accident.  God uses these moments in my life as powerfully as He does corporate worship or Bible study.

I have had a decision hanging over me for weeks that I have been putting off.  Eventually the lack of decision was going to make the decision for me, and result in an outcome that I think would have been disappointing.  You know how that is.  If you put things off long enough, they eventually figure themselves out or go away or fall apart without your initiative.  Not the end of the world, but sometimes sad.  Well, after moving and flowing all morning long.  After being quiet and breathing slowly for an hour.  After lying for several minutes in shavasana, barely conscious of Jeanie’s hands on my neck.  A small tear rolled down my cheek and a little bell went off in my head.  All of sudden, my decision was as clear as day.  I knew what I was supposed to do and I resolved immediately to take care of it.  Something that had seemed so cloudy just fell into focus.  It was brilliant.  I believe that I was quiet for long enough for God to speak to my heart.  And so I thanked my precious yoga instructor, asked her if I could just move in with her when they kick me out of the gym for good and floated on out into the rest of my day.  All day long I promise you, I made decisions and took actions that aren’t comfortable or even normal for me.  It was as if the clarity of the morning made the steps of the rest of my day seem all drawn out in sharpie marker for me.  Here, take this path. Or hey mouth, say these words to that person. I don’t always receive this level of blessing when I go to yoga, but if I don’t go, I miss the opportunity to have it, so ask me next week if I made it.  Or just look into my eyes, because you just might be able to tell.  At least I hope so.