Several years ago, I was preparing to teach my Tuesday morning Mindful Yoga class at Circle Yoga in Washington DC. I was sitting at the front of the class as students streamed in, setting up mats, blankets and bolsters.
Four minutes before class was due to begin, one of my regular students walked into class and straight to where I was sitting. She handed me a small newspaper clipping without saying a word. I assumed it was a yoga comic or other funny yoga tidbit. It wasn’t.
In my college sorority room, back in the “olden” days, the telephone was attached to the wall. This meant that while I was on the phone getting berated by my parents about being placed on academic probation and my continuing lack of a major, my roommate Janet, a computer science student, was on her side of the room drawing with fine tip markers on computer paper. And smirking.
Six years ago, I made a real commitment to taking better care of myself. Although I was a yoga teacher and to all appearances looked very healthy, I knew I wasn’t feeling as good as I could. I drank more often than I wanted to, ended most of my days with a couple of hours of TV, and managed to sleep through all of the morning practices I wanted to be doing.