Downward-Facing Dad

Yesterday I invited my dad to come to a yoga class with me today, and his answer: “yes!” I was so excited because I know how much courage it takes to go to a first yoga class, and I was able to have a Friday yoga/lunch date with my dad. Going to your first yoga class can be intimidating. No, I take that back, it is without a doubt incredibly intimidating. I remember my first yoga class. I had just moved out to California, (where it seems that virtually everyone is stylin’ and fit) and my college roommate invited me to go with her. I had no idea what any of the words meant that the teacher was saying, let alone I barely knew the meaning of “downward-facing dog.”¬†I was using a borrowed yoga mat and I didn’t know if I was wearing the “right” clothing. It seemed that everyone else in the class had the¬†malleability of a pipe cleaner and they seemed to flow from pose to pose with such perfection while I was a wobbly wooden board. I couldn’t help but think what the rest of them were thinking of me. Over time, however, I learned that the other people in the class didn’t give a rat’s ass about what I was doing or how I looked, because they were on their own yoga journey, while at that moment I was solely concerned about my destination (or lack thereof).

The theme in today’s class was the yogic law of effortlessness and living each pose as a journey instead of a destination. Just wanna give a shout out to my daddy for his courage to try something new and to live each pose and each moment in his life as a journey!

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