A decade ago, I began practicing Yoga–all styles, no preference–intent on becoming more flexible than I was, which doesn’t say much since I am about the most inflexible, wooden stick on the face of this earth. In my early Yoga sessions, holding any position, let alone correctly, was a challenge in the extreme. My teachers perpetually moved my hands, feet, hips, basically my every extremity to some crazy-ass-asuna that no man or no woman can attain. No wonder Yogic positions are named and modeled after animals other than human, e.g. why the “camel” hurts my hips or the “dolphin” kills my arms or the “pigeon” stretches my back. The breathing part I mastered since I delivered three children, proof that Lamaze lessons carry over outside of childbirth; but, everything else-asana was difficult for me and I consider myself to be an athlete.
So, this week, after I did three (yes, three!) head-stands–unassisted–away from the wall, I feel as though I am ready to tackle Everest! Perhaps not Everest, maybe K2. My essential point is this: The second half of my life, in some areas anyway, is an improvement on the first half. Wow!
Lesson learned: Never give up learning something new. It might take an entire decade, but it is worth it.
Love is Complicated 