Yesterday I had a beautiful yoga class. The boundaries of my body are moving outward inch by inch and I can feel myself getting stronger. When it came time Savasana—the pose where you lay there like a corpse and just breathe—I was in my bliss.
In a Bikram yoga class, Savasana comes at a time when you are sure you are going to either spontaneously combust from the heat or drown in your own sweat. It is at that near breaking point that mercifully you get to stop, lay down for two minutes, and just breathe.
It’s harder than you’d think. You want to fidget, bend your knees, wipe sweat out of your eyes and do a dozen different things, but that is not your job in that moment. Your job is to lay still and breathe.
My Savasana yesterday was incredible. The sun was shining and through my sweat-clouded eyes everything was sparkly and I just breathed deeply and . . . relaxed. So good.
If I could paint, I would paint that moment. But, alas, I am not a painter. I am a writer. And so I offer this: a haiku in honor of this most minimalist pose.
In a Bikram yoga class, Savasana comes at a time when you are sure you are going to either spontaneously combust from the heat or drown in your own sweat. It is at that near breaking point that mercifully you get to stop, lay down for two minutes, and just breathe.
It’s harder than you’d think. You want to fidget, bend your knees, wipe sweat out of your eyes and do a dozen different things, but that is not your job in that moment. Your job is to lay still and breathe.
My Savasana yesterday was incredible. The sun was shining and through my sweat-clouded eyes everything was sparkly and I just breathed deeply and . . . relaxed. So good.
If I could paint, I would paint that moment. But, alas, I am not a painter. I am a writer. And so I offer this: a haiku in honor of this most minimalist pose.
Oh Savasana
My sweat-stunned body rests, at last
I have found my breath
My sweat-stunned body rests, at last
I have found my breath
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