Release the Hostages

My lovely man is in the shower. He’s got yoga class in an hour. He’s pretty excited. Me too.

I do Vinyasa and Ashtanga classes at the moment. He takes Yin Yoga. You probably know more about that than I do.

What I do know is that ten years ago I might have spent time and energy trying to convince him that my form of yoga is so fantastic that he’d be better off in my class. With my teacher.  My chanting. At my favorite hour of the day. On my kind of yoga mat. In my corner in the back row.  And on and on into ridiculousness.

I was a little bit inflexible, which defeats the purpose, don’t you think?

I was also chronically bored, which is what happens when I only listen to what I’ve already said 47 times before.

I’m happy to say that at the age of 48 I’m just now learning to let the hostages go.  To let others choose for themselves and to be happy with what that brings me.

What does it bring me?

Hours of discussion about Yin Yoga, for one. It sounds fantastic. I’ll try it in the fall.

The second thing it brings me is the idea that although yoga is about union, it is also an enormous and varied collection of beautiful ways to explore and take care of ourselves.

I can hardly wait to hear what yoga you love and why.

Thanks to yoga for helping me release the hostages, and thanks to you for the conversation.

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