Today I had my first yoga class! Can’t believe I never tried it
before, but you know how busy I’ve always been . . .
I knew of a woman in St. Louis who went with a friend one time,
to see what a yoga class was like. And when she lay down on her
mat she nervously giggled to her friend.
“NO LAUGHING!” the instructor scolded—and Bev was
suitably subdued from then on–not easy in her case (nor
mine). So I knew I must be careful and quiet –no nonsense.
I received a nice friendly welcome from the instructor–who
asked my name, and told me I’d only need a chair, no mat, etc.
In case you haven’t guessed, this is the “easy” beginner class!
And, out of the thousands of yoga classes that took place in the
world today, I’ll bet you a nickel I was in the only class where
the instructor belted out two Broadway hits. Yes! Before class
began, she announced that “her show” was playing this weekend–
“Fabulous Females of Broadway” and handed out flyers about it.
She’ll be singlehandedly singing/imitating twelve show hits
onstage–from all the old chestnuts–Carousel, Annie Get Your Gun,
Cats, 42nd Street . . .and I, forgetting my demure quiet demeanor
suggested that she sing us a sample. And what one? How about
Eva Peron of Evita.
And someone else suggested Mama Rose from Gypsy.
And so she did—-both of them! All on her own, a capella, standing
in front of us–demonstrating onstage showmanship at the drop of a
hat. Good enough for me to shed a tear during “Don’t Cry For Me,
Argentina.” Good grief. I don’t even know this woman.
And how was yoga? It was good! I recognized a couple of the poses
from other exercise classes, but in this class every inch of our bodies
seemed to be addressed—including our livers and spleens! What?
The instructor is very good—nice soothing constant chant of directions
and pleadings for us to open up, drop out, release the tensions. She says
we’ll find our inner selves.
Along the way, there were good stretches, tantalizing vine-y music and
vibes all over the place! I’m open! Free! Ready to greet the world!