I have been desiring to take my yoga practice out of the house, and into the outdoors. I look at the runners, bikers, swimmers, and people out walking their dogs in the freshness of a new day, and notice I'm wanting that invigorating feeling they must get by being out in the open. Today, I drove down to the park with the intention of grounding myself on the lawn, and practicing yoga without a mat. Just me and the earth. There is a quiet hill, where if I went down on the backside of it, I would not be seen by the public eye. This didn't work out as I had imagined. The sprinklers were on, and it was cold. The sun was just beginning to peek up over the mountains. I've always been stubborn. I drove around looking for a place I could enjoy the experience I so wanted to have, but nothing seemed possible. Thankfully I woke up early enough that it was alright to take my time.
I finally gave up, and settled for going to our neighborhood clubhouse to ride a stationary bike in my flip flops. No good.
But then, I looked up as I parked my car and saw the sun shining on the dock at the lake. I decided to give it a go. I got out of the car with my yoga mat in hand, and walked out into the sunshine. It felt so warm on my face. The water birds were singing.
Then it sunk in. "People are going to see me." I brushed it off. "People are going to think I'm crazy!" Again, I ignored the thought. I continued in my yoga practice trying to enjoy the beauty around me, but constantly distracted by my self-consciousness. The dock also proposed an element of fear. The fear of falling. "What if I fall in the water? What if people see me fall in the water?" I persisted. "The balance is no harder, it's just that you've got farther to fall." Balancing on the dock was more difficult for me than I thought it would be. Looking up into the void of a clear blue sky seemed to make me dizzy. I became much more aware of where my focus should be. If I came back to my Drishti, (the place where your eyes should be gazing within a pose,) my eyes could focus on my hand reached out into the open, and the pose became more stable. Inside a studio, or my home, you can always find a little spot on the floor, or the wall, or the ceiling to focus on. Here, it was just me. "I need to do this more often." I remembered the first time I got up to teach a yoga class. I was tense, and nervous. As I persisted the breath came alive as it calmed my nervous system. My muscles relaxed into the flow. My mind became focused on the present. This was liberating for someone like me. I've always been a very private person. Yet, I feel compelled to do things that bring me out into the view of others. It was the first time in a very long time I was not afraid to be in front of other people.
