Have you ever wondered why yoga seems so f-ing hard sometimes, and so f-ing easy at other times? There are those days that it feels like waterboarding would be an easier fate than yo-torture. Those days are Hell. The body doesn’t do much but lumber from one sloth-like position to the other. And, the mind, well it’s just gone out for a chardonnay lunch with the girls.
Many of my yoga practices are like that. I slog through it, hoping that it’s over sooner, than later. However, on occasion, I find a place that is different.
The Yo-zone is an enchanted place. Its like I’m outside of myself looking in and noticing how fabulous I am. Royalty has kissed me, and I’ve awakened to a new world. I am the happy, sanitary napkin girl running through the fields in the commercial. Nothing stops me. The thick mound of plastic-laced cotton swab between my legs is giving me freedom. I’m flowing, even when I’m flowing. And really a sense of complete gratitude comes over me, like I just got told I won the lottery. I plot how I would spend it, on Fluevog shoes to start with, and then on others, giving loads of my cash away. I think about what a great philanthropist I would be and how everyone would talk about how generous I am. I would name a wing of the yoga studio after myself and create free classes for all. I would become Yo-Royalty based on my Virgin Millionaire mentality.
The Yo-zone is like the illusive possibility of complete happiness that is always on the edge and just out of reach. The abyss is what pulls me over most of the time. But maybe that’s it. The edge is where I want to be.
Maybe the Yo-zone is that in between awful and tremendous state of mind, body and soul. I mean isn’t life really about the process, the journey, the path, and not the outcome. Mind you, to be a Virgin Millionaire would be a Hell of an outcome. I say celebrate the Yo when it happens, and pray to have it more than once a year!