Monday, May 21, 2012

Namaste, thanks for joining me!

That is what I say after every yoga class I teach. Now I say it to you for reading this little post in the blogosphere. There are a couple readers and for you I am appreciative. Today I thought I'd elaborate on how I came to love yoga.

A horse led me to yoga. With a quick kick to the face. :)

Yes, you heard me right. A horse.... and a kick.

I was riding occasionally with my sister at a barn here in my town. My sister is quite a great horsewoman, riding English. She jumps and shows. She is amazing. Me, well I was just learning to ride.

One day I met her at the barn. We were going to take a few of the horses out for a quick walk around since it had been raining for a few days. Mud was everywhere, but it was a beautiful day. My sisters horse, Asher, is a good boy. But he was giving her some trouble, pushing her around not walking right. This is my older sister but...I'm quite bossy. My sister gets a little nervous with the horses. Plus I always feel the need to boss her (and everyone). So I said, "Let me do it. I am not afraid." Some famous last words.

I took Asher and she went off with the other horse. Asher and I passed a big bag of apples he had been eyeing and.... for some reason something spooked  him.  Up he went and ripped the lead out of my hand. Automatically I bent down to pick it up (bad move) and then got kicked in the head, the eye to be exact. Literally a swift kick to the head.

Obviously that was a bit dramatic and traumatic. But...this kick actually changed me for the better. While I was healing from the shattered eye socket and cheekbone I needed some way to work out and relieve stress. You should know I am addicted to working out (sometimes).

Looking through a little local magazine I found an ad for a yoga studio down the street. I decided it was time to try it. From the moment I walked into the studio I like I'd come home. For this I am thankful for that "bad" day and that "bad" horse.

That's the start of my yoga story. Do you have a place you came home to, the very first time you arrived? Tell me....

2 comments:

  1. OMG. This story is a metaphor come to life. Brilliant! Although I'm sure it didn't feel brilliant at the time.

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    1. Thanks Melissa. I learned later that horses are sometimes a symbol of freedom. HA! He gave me my freedom from a crazy corporate job but that is a whole diff story.

      YAY! Thanks for my first comment!!!

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