Classes completed as of Day 4: 3
My state of mind in class on Day 4, can only be described as distracted.
I rushed into class with my mind stuffed to overflowing with all the annoyances of the day, and it took me a long time to get rid of them.
You know how it is…
It was a busy day with too many things to do, and not enough time to do them all. Demands from all directions, and me feeling slightly crazed and wondering how it would all get done.
I left for class a little later than I wanted, given the fact that this was the first time I was making the commute to the new studio from home. I was cutting it close. If I didn’t make it there in time I’d have to wait 2 hours until the next class began.
Of course as I set out, I realized I had almost no gas. I was annoyed with myself. Why hadn’t I gotten gas last night when I wasn’t in a rush? I stopped at a gas station on the way. The attendant who came over to me was new on the job and couldn’t figure out how to work the pump. He had to wait for help.
I felt myself getting irritable and impatient as I waited for the other guy to come over, and then as he (in my mind) slowly showed the new guy what to do.
I had asked for $20 worth of gas. When I looked over to the pump wondering why it was taking so long, I realized it was still going and was now at $25.
“Excuse me. Excuse me… I only asked for $20.” I yelled at the guy out of the window, now thoroughly exasperated and not a little pissed off.
As it’s happening, there is a part of me – the me I like to call Big Sue – who knows that it’s not that serious. Because Big Sue is the grown up, spiritually mature me, who always takes the high road. She is kind and compassionate and knows what’s really important in life. She always keeps things in perspective and always leads with love.
However this time Big Sue is totally overridden by Lil’ Sue. The petulant, angry, impatient, spoiled and hysterical Sue, who thinks everything is all about her and wants nothing but her own instant gratification. She is fearful and paranoid and is convinced the world is out to get her.
The guy apologizes, and while Big Sue understands and knows that it was an innocent mistake Lil’ Sue just insists on being pissed off and acts as if the guy did this intentionally just to make her late for class. Big Sue knows she should be more compassionate, the poor man is learning a new job after all.
He apologizes again, and while I open my mouth and say it’s OK, I do so with an attitudinal roll of the eyes and a pissy sigh. I can see from the guys eyes, that he is well aware that I don’t genuinely mean it. I drive away angrily and get on the highway. I am watching the clock and groaning in frustration as other cars “get in my way” and periodically slow to a crawl just to mess with me.
I have all the physical symptoms of being late. There is a knot in my stomach. My body is taut. Jaw clenched. I am barely breathing. I lean forward in my seat driving like I’m in a car chase. Dodging from one lane to the next (Like that’s really going to get me there faster.)
When I finally get near the yoga studio, I take the wrong exit.
*@(&$(@#$&#($&!
I have to make a U-turn.
When I turn onto the street that the studio is on, it’s only to discover that there is road work being done. I wait impatiently while a police offer directs traffic coming from the opposite direction. It seems to take forever. I have 6 minutes to make it into the studio, otherwise the doors will be locked.
Finally, he signals to the cars coming from my direction to move.
I inch forward only to discover that the paving machines are right in front of the driveway I need to get into.
I say a very rude word out loud.
I roll my window down and ask the officer how I might get into the building parking lot and he tells me I have to turn around and go back the way I came, go around the block to the other entrance.
I scream the rude word again in my mind. (Not even Lil’ Sue is crazy enough to curse in front of the police).
My arch nemesis - the dreaded Triangle posture. Performed here by Emmy Cleaves a Principal Bikram yoga teacher. She has been practicing Bikram Yoga since 1973...the year I was born! She's amazing!!
After going back the way I came, barreling around the corner on two wheels and almost hitting a dumpster as I screech into a parking space, I grab my stuff and run into the building.
I make it just in time to grab my mat and towel. There is a sign on the door of the hot room, reminding me that I am entering a quiet space and suggesting that I take a deep breath and relax. I read the sign, but I’m not sure it sinks in.
I try to find a spot, where I can see myself in the mirror. I am annoyed because people have arranged themselves in a way which makes this difficult. If that big guy in front of me would be courteous enough to scoot a little to the left I could see myself. And if the lady to my right had the common sense to move to the right, I wouldn’t feel like she was on top of me. Neither one of them moves, so I resign myself to this spot and lay down on my mat.
I try to relax and breathe, but my body is tense and stiff. Luckily the teacher comes in and we have to get to our feet to begin the class. I follow her voice as she issues instructions but my mind is running. I feel like the new kid in class. Everyone here has clearly been practicing for longer than me. They are “better” than me.
Like most Bikram teachers, our instructor offers posture corrections and compliments to people as we go through the class. I get paranoid because she for a long time doesn’t say anything directly to me. No corrections. No compliments. Nothing. Maybe I’m so bad that she thinks there’s no hope for me. Or perhaps – Lil’ Sue chimes in – it’s because I’m the only black person in the room. (I told you she was paranoid).
About halfway through the class she finally compliments me on my Triangle posture. The most difficult of all 26 postures. I feel ridiculously relieved and pleased.
I never cease to be amazed by how deep my need for approval runs.
At this point my mind starts to unclench a little. I relax into the class and focus on my eyes in the mirror. Breathing a little more deeply with each passing minute. The wet heat seems to soak all the way into my body, making me fully relax my tensed muscles.
It is only when we get to the second part of the class, the floor series that I remember why I’m here. I lie on on my back in dead body pose, gaze focused on a spot in the ceiling and I think about my challenge. About the reason why I rushed here like a crazy person. How astonishing that this thought only comes into my mind now.
When I first decided to do the challenge, I told myself that I would begin each class with a silent dedication to the students of KG6. 3 classes in and I’ve already forgotten. I think about this, not with judgment, but with awareness. One of the many reasons this practice has become so important to me is because – even though it sometimes takes a while – it does eventually have the effect of shutting Lil’ Sue up. No matter how hysterical she is when I arrive, eventually the blanketing heat, the hum of the heaters, the gentle cadence of the instructor’s voice and the deep focused breathing of the class eventually still the hysteria and Lil’ Sue takes a nap.
