MOKSHA - Resistance

So I walk into yoga today. It's been one of those days where I desperately need my favorite yoga teacher. And I look into the room and see the worst thing ever: a substitute. Damn. For a moment, I think maybe I should leave. Go to my second favorite source of stress relief: a bottle of wine and a phone call to my cousin. But, I'm already here and it would be kind of hard to bow out at this point. So I take a deep breath and walk into class.

Megan is the substitute and the first thing I notice about Megan is that she looks like me. Not that you would get the two of us confused or even see the resemblance - but in yogaland - she definitely looks like me. Most yoga teachers are tiny. Many are former dancers, or type A personalities that have type A bodies. Megan, however, has boobs, a stomach, and a booming voice and I immediately like her.

She welcomes everyone to class and asks us what areas of the body we want to work on. Hips. I, like many people, hold most of my stress in my hips and need to alleviate some of this pain immediately. And then, like someone who can see right through you, she looks right at me and asks if anyone is working on letting anything go "off of the mat": family issues, ex-boyfriends, job stuff. I slowly nod and she winks at me like we just told each other a secret.

She tells us all to lay on our backs and let go of everything that happened today, releasing it into the ground. We move into "pigeon pose" and she calls it "pige." Megan gracefully guides us through poses and encourages me in "crow pose," even though I can only seem to hold it for a moment. She laughs and reminds us that yoga is playful.

Then she comes over to me and tells me this next pose is for me and winks again. She pulls over another student and says we are going to be partners. Mande??? There are no partners in yoga class.

We are instructed to lie on our stomachs, grab our ankles and flex our feet so that our partner can sit on them while pulling our shoulders up away from the floor. Holy shit. Adrian and I are partners and she has these cool dove tattoos on the back of her shoulders. So I tell her this and she says "Flex your feet so I can sit down." "Right." I say. And when she reaches around my chest, all I can think about is that a stranger's ass is sitting on my sweaty feet while I grab my ankles and her hands are pulling my chest and torso off the floor. And I smile - Megan was right. This pose is exactly what I need. Because there is no way you can continue to be resistant in this pose. So I take a deep breath, smile and let Adrian sit on my feet.

Attachment to what is comfortable and customary makes me feel safe. The problem with attachment is it brings resistance to change. And change is the lifeblood of growth. Yesterday I was reminded that sometimes your guard must come down and you need to allow someone to help you open up your heart, even if it involves risking an uncomfortbale moment between two strangers.