Yoga studios are everywhere around Los Angeles but I like Black Dog. It's really clean with shining hardwood floors, a serene atmosphere and super friendly people. Finding the right yoga instructor seems to be all about chemistry, and I have found my few.
A cross-section of the community comes here, from the young--I mean really young, like 7 years old--to matrons (does that include me, I hope not) to senior citizens. Black Dog is located at a major business intersection in Sherman Oaks so the parking is easy especially in the weekend day mornings. For better or worse, this make it more appealing.
There's always a hushed atmosphere in the studio even though lots of us talk before class. Sigrid Matthews is my favorite instructor. She always starts off with a short meditation and then a reminder about intention and awareness and some short relevant reading.
I've decided my awareness point is about two inches below my navel. There's a heart-beat there that aims me in the direction of peace and tranquility. I'm getting an audio tape from a therapist, sort of a hypnotherapy kind of thing, that is supposed to focus attention and blot out the other stuff. We'll see. She has an on-going practice at Black Dog, too, but with a different instructor in a much more demanding class.
So, 90 minutes later I head home in a better frame of mind and soul than I arrived. Give yoga a chance whether you have chronic physical pain or mental pain or just a case of ennui. At first it can be intimidating, but keep at it, the pay-off might be in the next moment or ease of breath.
Back at my home, lots of that peacefulness flies out the window. The swimming pool next door is heated up and the kids are out there screaming Marco Polo in a happy boy-boisterous sort of way. If the gardeners, news helicopters, and cars all went away I could probably hear the humming bird just outside the window. It's amazing how he keeps those wings going. I wonder if he feels at peace with that constant motion or if he is hyper-tense.
So far, no one seems to know the answer. So you suppose humming birds are at peace as long as their wings are fluttering at that amazing speed that never seems to stop?
I'm open for answers here.
3 comments:
That's good Lisa, I can hear the helicopters and the kids and imagine the poor little humming bird trying to keep up.
I bought a yoga tape a long time ago. It remains unopened. After reading your post, I think I may have to open it. When I was in my early 20's, I had a bad three-wheeler wreck and later, a "horse wreck." I've suffered extreme back pain ever since. Yoga just might help.
Thanks for the info, Lisa. I'll be watching for your next posts.
Lisa Kirby
www.familyfunandfood.blogspot.com
I don't know if yoga could help with the lower back pain my doc says she things is compression fractures. but it might not be a bad idea to check into it.
The hummingbird? Well, last summer we had a lot of them because we kept the feeders full of red necter. This year I ended up with uncolored stuff and hubby won't mix up more of the stuff, even though I bought four boxes. One hopeful hunningbird keeps coming back to one feeder thinking "Maybe this time there will be something there for me. Oh, maybe ... please please please pretty please."
We have VIrginia Creeper that crawled up onto the porch. Hubby then ran some strings for it to follow and now we have a screen of creeper. Last summer, one of the hummingbirds would go to the feeder, take a drink then land in the creeper. Look around, snapping his head back and forth from side to side. Then back to the feeder for another short drink. This went on for about half an hour at a time. And almost every day.
When they first showed up here, I thought the loud buzz and the streak zooming past the windows of the 3-season porch were borer bees and I almost freaked out. Then I figured out what they were.
Another day, I was coming home with my arms full of stuff but with camera in amongst the stuff and I heard the buzz. I turned and fumbled to grab the camera. The frightened hummingbird flew off into hubby's tomato jungle. I called "I only wanted to take your picture."
Unlocked the house and heard the buzz once again. There it was, hoving about four feet away and "posing" for me to take its picture. I was even more amazed that the shot came out. :-)
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