"It's a party; arrive whenever you want"
This quote came to me this morning as part of a newsletter I receive weekly (Cup of Jo, by Joanne Goddard). Within her newsletter, she includes ‘newsy’ pieces that she’s read and the one that caught my eye was “Life’s a Party, Not a Race” by Caroline Donofrio.
All that to say the article addresses late bloomers (like myself).
It’s not unusual for a new student to arrive for a class, to set up their mat alongside mine, not realizing that I am the teacher. Once I introduce myself, I often hear “oh, you’re the teacher?”. Which is not all that surprising given the emphasis on youth, flexibility, svelteness, etc., promoted by many of the ads, publications, TV portrayals, etc., of yoga teachers, in general.
I’ve learned to brush those questions off, ask about injuries, and tell the new person where to place her/his mat and what props to have available, then to teach the class.
That’s not to say younger isn’t OK. In fact, I watched a young yoga teacher on Youtube this week (affiliated with REI). She was great, as are many.
What makes me different is ___?___. I started that sentence and don’t know how to finish it. I do know this about myself:
At 72 years, I feel stronger than I have in many years. I love moving into and out of poses and NOTICING the muscles engage or release in order to move my body.
I am more agile than some my age, which makes me both proud and sad (as in, when do people give up and stop moving).
I have never achieved extreme flexibility, but I know (and appreciate) that when I take child’s pose at the end of my yoga practice, my forehead easily reaches the mat. If you’ve taken my classes, you know that I readily admit that in my first child’s pose of a practice, my forehead is probably 2 inches from the mat. Now, that’s flexibility in action!
I enjoy the sense of calm yoga has offered me — rarely does my heralded “Thompson” temper flare (Thompson is my maiden name; the temper inherited from my Father).
And, the breath — I am passionate about the breath — how I breathe, helping others to find and observe their breath, studying everything I find about the benefits of breathing through the nose (inhale and exhale).
When I started my yoga practice (at age 48), it was to deal with loneliness and probably a bit of depression after Howard and I moved to Salt Lake, 30 years ago. He was traveling, I was home with 2 dogs. Skiing only took up 3-4 months of the year; the rest was spent trying to figure out life without a job to create friendships and fill my days. Howard suggested yoga. I tried, didn’t really like it, so quit after a month. 3 months later I was back in the studio (different teacher, different type of class) and I’ve never looked back.
I hope to continue as long as this body and mind allow. As Desiree Rumbaugh told me once: “You can’t play the age card.” I won’t.
Take care & be safe,
