I've just finished session 3 of my yoga-for-the-elderly class, and have decided to blog about it. First, a couple of disclaimers. These are fabulous people. All six to eight of them. They're more than I'll ever be at their age (more on that later). I've spent three hours over a span of three weeks with them, and already I'm a fan.
I learned about the yoga class over a year ago on one of those awkward, wish-I-didn't-live-on-the-16th-floor sort of elevator rides. I don't remember the source of the wish-I-didn't moment, but I do remember looking up to the (elevator) skies, catching a glimpse of the scroller just above the doors, and quickly getting engrossed in its contents. Somewhere between news about voting, the closure of the outdoor pool, a new-and-improved gym, and pilates classes, I saw a sign about yoga. Several months, and one new yoga mat later, I made it to my first class.
Lovely people. Just the best. They all shook my hand, asked me my name, and when they didn't quite get what a Divya was, kindly offered alternative names, which varied from Olivia, to Vivian, to what-was-that? After exchanging pleasantries, we settled down on our mats, stretched our muscles, relaxed them, released gas (some of us anyway), stretched some more, relaxed some more, and headed home. Session 2 was pretty much the same. We reviewed the minutes of Session 1 (did you say it was Olivia?), stretched, relaxed, fell asleep and snored loudly (some of us anyway), stretched, relaxed some more (albeit still a little less than some others of us), and headed home. Which brings us to today.
Today, we were down to five, including my lovely instructor (she's probably in her 70s, has traveled to India, done extensive yoga training, has something wonderfully calm about her -- she must have a spotlessly clean aura). She told us she was going to talk to us about breathing, at which point one of the four aspiring yogis raised her hand and asked if she could skip out. "I hate this breathing stuff," she explained. Two things popped into my not-yet-relaxed head: 1. That breathing stuff pumps in oxygen and pumps out carbon dioxide, which helps with the whole living thing that most of us seem to enjoy. 2. (perhaps less critical) That's 90 percent of what yoga's about. In any case, she was promptly told to "chill" by the woman sitting by her (meow?), which she was forced to do, because that's 5 percent of what yoga's about (more on the other 5 percent later). Not much else was different -- stretching, relaxation, release of gas, stretching, relaxation, home.
That's all for now. We'll have to see where this blog takes us.
Olivia.
