Several years ago, my husband came to take a yoga class I was teaching. On the way home he said, “You really can’t be cynical and do yoga, can you?”
Ever since then I’ve noticed how much yoga has changed my perspective on life. And no, I don’t believe you can be cynical about the world and do yoga. Not really. Not the yoga I know. You can have a cynical or ironic sense of humor at times, but not on the mat. It just doesn’t work.
Cynicism was on my mind last night when I was taking Rusty Well’s class in San Francisco. I’m practicing with a packed room, and at the Yoga Tree’s Castro location that’s got to be close to 100 people. Class is hard, the heat is intense and yet I don’t struggle because I am so into what Rusty’s talking about. Every song is danceable, and his teaching is so spot-on that I’m able to stay in that zen space and go with it. I just don’t have any mental energy left to be cynical, negative or even let my mind wander. In that moment, every joke he tells seems funnier, and everything within my body is magnified. I’m right at home in the true essense of me, breathing in and out.
So, here I am in the heart of the castro. Me. The little suburban Mormon mom of 3, meeting fabulous new friends and joining all of our beliefs together into a greater purpose. That great bhakti ideal of love and devotion. As we chant at the beginning and end of class, I believe it. We really are all one. We’re not so different and together maybe there is hope for the world.
Naiive optimism, I know. It really is blissful.
