ohm...

I took up yoga at the beginning of the summer and I alternate between being proud of myself for sticking with it and getting better at it, and belittling myself for once again not "getting it."

Because I don't get it. Everything is definitely not zen. I mean, I get it. I understand the purpose and the benefits on my body...the tightness in my hamstrings and lower back and the constant nagging in my Achilles tendon have been greatly improved. And I see progress in my Downward Dog, but it is the whole conscious relaxation part that is getting me. I can't do it. I can't lie there and completely and utterly focus on my solar plexus. In fact, one day I said "solar plexus" so many times in my head that they didn't even sound like words anymore. And I often find myself just going through the motions while I think about what I am going to do when I am finished consciously relaxing. Which I'm thinking probably defeats the point of the whole exercise. I have to snap myself back to attention so frequently that my mind begins to feel like my cat when I decided to give her a bath when I was ten. It was a long, arduous, silent battle of wills. It seemed as though she became octa-kitty and grew several new appendages with razor sharp claws. And at no point could I completely get a grip on her long enough to make the enterprise worthwhile. I am octa-kitty. And this all brings me to the story that is my life. Maybe this is why I struggle to realize my "full potential" as I have so often been told.

I tried something new this morning to help me be "fully engaged and aware of my body." While lying in conscious relaxation pose, I kept my eyes open. I figured if I can pray better with my eyes open, maybe I can relax that way as well. I focused on the spinning ceiling fan and I only caught myself counting the rotation of the blades three times. Of course, one time I got to 57. We'll just call this progress.