Dedication

This evening I finally made it to sweaty, stinky yoga. 

Thank goodness. The goings-on of life has once again tightened my psoas. 

I started in mountain pose and our yogi asked us to dedicate this practice to someone to whom we are grateful. 

I stood, eyes closed, hands towards the sky, waiting for my mind to choose the object of my gratitude. 

Hubs. My mind said.

What? I replied back. 

Hubs.

Really? Because honestly, he is not the savasana kinda guy. You’ve seen his Happy Baby and it’s not pretty. 

Really, Hubs. 

By this time my Yogi had intervened. “Usually your first thought, is your best thought.” 

So my practice was dedicated to Hubs. It was a good practice; sweaty, productive and at the end, wrapped in lavender hand towel placed delicately across my eyelids. 

I came home and met Hubs at the door.

Honey?  

Sweetie? I totally should have corrected him and said it’s Sweaty, not Sweetie but I like being Sweetie, no matter how sweaty I am. 

Today in yoga I was asked to dedicate my practice to someone I felt gratitude towards and you were the first person I thought of and I couldn’t get you out of my mind so I dedicated my practice to you! 

Aw, that’s sweet. Thank you. 

And just so you know, it was really stinky, sweaty yoga. 

Yeah, thanks. 

And it’s funny, because Hubs is not a yoga guy. But apparently I am a sweaty yoga monkey; no matter how tight my psoas is. 

And we meet halfway. 

I got home and read my book of reflections and here was tonight’s: 

It’s Safe to Open Your Heart: 

It’s not that life and people are different, although how we see life and view people has probably changed. We’re different. We’ve learned about our powers. We’ve learned to take care of ourselves. We’ve learned how capable we really are. 

Don’t be afraid to love. Now it’s time to learn about the powers of the heart. 

Love is a risk. Add a topping of rich, complex grief and that risk can be intensified. BUT add another layer of gratitude and acceptance of who we are as our own and maybe it’s like a relationship flambe’….Like a Crepes Suzette. 

Which reminds me of French cuisine….and Paris. Hubs and I honeymooned in France. We shared a bottle of wine on the train and ate the most amazing cheese on crusty bread. 

Le Poop. 

But I did make it to yoga.