By Vickey Bell
After participating in a relaxing yoga presentation by Jo-Ann Brine (Willow Yoga) during a Writer's Workshop taught by Deborah Carr at Forest Dale Home Inc., I renewed an appreciation for the benefits of this gentle form of exercise.
The teaching brought back memories of stretching, breathing and mindful techniques learned during a winter excursion into the yoga fold several years ago.
After participating in a relaxing yoga presentation by Jo-Ann Brine (Willow Yoga) during a Writer's Workshop taught by Deborah Carr at Forest Dale Home Inc., I renewed an appreciation for the benefits of this gentle form of exercise.
The teaching brought back memories of stretching, breathing and mindful techniques learned during a winter excursion into the yoga fold several years ago.
I envisioned myself in my favorite pose - Corpse. Ahhhh, the beauty of it all! Lying on the carpet face-up, after molding myself into Downward Dog and a variety of other yoga poses, I would allow my body to seek its angle of repose.
I remembered the soothing tones of sound-surround New Age Music playing softly. “Turtle thoughts” slowing even more as the instructor dimmed the lights in the room. “Nowhere to be/No place to go” was the mantra for this pose back then. I would cocoon beneath a colorful, cozy blanket that I imagined as my pal.
I remembered hearing the soft sniffle of tears from someone's washed away anxiety, a "fluff" of flatulence (no embarrassed dozing disciples at those sessions) or a little concerto of z's from a truly relaxed devotee filling the quiet spaces.
I would befriend the darkness for ten blissful minutes and, as the lights broke into a new dawn, I would rise up no longer a corpse but a renewed, energized new me. Lately, I'm tempted to perform Corpse Pose at home even if it might be considered an afternoon "nap"!?!
I remembered the soothing tones of sound-surround New Age Music playing softly. “Turtle thoughts” slowing even more as the instructor dimmed the lights in the room. “Nowhere to be/No place to go” was the mantra for this pose back then. I would cocoon beneath a colorful, cozy blanket that I imagined as my pal.
I remembered hearing the soft sniffle of tears from someone's washed away anxiety, a "fluff" of flatulence (no embarrassed dozing disciples at those sessions) or a little concerto of z's from a truly relaxed devotee filling the quiet spaces.
I would befriend the darkness for ten blissful minutes and, as the lights broke into a new dawn, I would rise up no longer a corpse but a renewed, energized new me. Lately, I'm tempted to perform Corpse Pose at home even if it might be considered an afternoon "nap"!?!
About the Author: Born and raised in Albert County, I am six of eight born into Margaret Steeves's clan. Have been retired for three years and indulge myself in gardening, reading and supporting causes in the surrounding communities. Writing has always been an interest on the back burner until now. Thank you Deborah Carr for bringing this pot to a boil and Janet Wallace for a chance to publish.
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