After a week of inner panic, I entered breathing class. Let me just say that I look forward to every class, every aspect of yoga. I don't have to be convinced or dragged. I don't get home and think, 'well, maybe I'll skip this one.' Nope. Never crosses my mind. But not all classes are pleasant and some are more difficult than others. It scares me to go inside my head, inside myself. It shouldn't. I've been stuck there for a long time. But to really take a long, hard look at the inner workings...sheesh. Sometimes, I think it would be easier to medicate rather than meditate. But meditation is what I've chosen and therefore must pursue.
So, I set my intention. And this time I asked for strength. I know I am strong. I know I am strong more than I am a lot of things. But I felt the need for a specific kind of strength, one I couldn't even name. It wasn't my conscious mind asking for strength; it was my heart. I had a hard time controlling the breath in this session. The innate breath was stronger and took over. It was interesting to cease control of something in my life. Amazing that I actually try to control my breath or more accurately restrict my breath. And when I let go, the breath actually pushed into the upper breathing region and released my throat chakra. My chest burned. And so did my throat. I wonder how long it's been since I've breathed in that area. I'm sure I did once. Is it only recent tragedy that restricted it or has it been restricted for years? I lean toward the latter explanation.
Har Sharon warned that I may be more opinionated and vocal than usual. I laughed. I suspect you're laughing too. But with this desire to vocalize comes the challenge to be mindful. And with this, a challenge to see how creatively I can find ways to relax. I laughed at this, too. I'm about as relaxed as a slug in a salt mine. You might as well challenge me to take a vow of silence or to fast. It's strange to think you have to make an effort to relax. But it will certainly take a concerted effort.
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