The First Step is the Hardest

When they find out I am a yoga instructor, people usually respond with, "I really need to do yoga". They continue listing the things they used to be able to do and all of the things they can't do anymore. The reaction isn't limited to older individuals. I've heard the same responses from teenagers and twenty-somethings. I encourage them to join me at my next class, promise I will be nice to them and even give them a mat to use and some chocolate (a frequent give-away in my classes). It is always heartwarming to see them walk through the door that first time. Getting in the door or taking the first step is the hardest part of many ventures.

A new person walked into my cycling class this morning a few minutes late. I set him up on the bike and proceeded to lead the class through intense drills on flats and hills with entertaining and motivating music. I gave the new guy encouraging words throughout the session and told him that he had survived the hardest part - walking in the door. He hung in as long as he could and sheepishly slid off his bike after about 30 minutes, ready to call it quits. I told him that I only lasted 15 minutes the first time and I was very proud of him and that we all looked forward to him coming back the next week. He said he would. They always say they will as they internally shake their head from side to side! But I really think this one really will.

Sometimes the first step is the hardest to take - the first day of a diet, the first time we speak in public, the first time we create something and put it out there for reactions. The more steps we take, the easier it gets. Don't be afraid of that first step.

Scare Yourself Once a Day

I lightheartedly tease some of my yoga students in class when they make faces. Sometimes the faces are because they are struggling in a pose. I remind them to breathe through their nose and tell them if their mouth is open they are working too hard. Other faces are on the new people when I mention what we are going to do during the class (i.e. stand on our hands and let our legs float up into the air while twisting them into various positions). I calm their fears by letting them know we are going to try and see what happens and you just never know. I let them know every pose has many steps to it and they might only take the first step that day and not go any farther and that is ok - so RELAX! The response is entertaining but they appear ready to go. No one bolts for the door. That is always a good sign.

I needed some encouraging words like that when I went to my last horseback riding lesson. I was going to have a lesson with another person - a very little person who seems to me to have no fear. She gets right up on this huge horse and follows the instructor's directions very calmly and precisely and happily. I was very calm and happy myself when I arrived until I found out that because the little person was on the mild horse, I was going to get to ride the Arabian. I call him the wild Arabian. He is in training (so am I). He doesn't like to stand still (which makes it exciting when you are trying to get up on him), he likes to go fast and he likes to dance around. I tend to prefer the mild horse that takes a little more to get her moving. Call me chicken - I don't mind! I am sure the horses do. I wish I could have had a picture of my face when the instructor told me I was going to get to ride the Arabian that day. And I thought my yoga students looked scared when I mentioned their legs floating up in the air.

Well - I did survive and actually did quite well on the Arabian. He was fun and challenging. I followed the instructor's directions very calmly and precisely and happily. I think I am over my fear of the wild Arabian until next time.

It is important to scare yourself a little every day. Get out of that comfort zone and see what you can really do.

Quick - Get the Camera

I recently attended a yoga workshop with an instructor who goes by the name of "Yeah Dave". He combines yoga, chocolate and wine - which I have always been an avid supporter of. I enjoyed the workshop, the refreshments and Dave - as a good looking male instructor always keeps me present in the moment in class. Dave heavily promotes this concept and has a video clip on his WEB site of him interviewing people in Hawaii being present in the moment (how can you not be present in the moment in Hawaii?). He sent out a newsletter after the workshop inviting us to send him pictures of us being present in the moment. I immediately began to think of creative extraordinary things I could do and then photograph to submit in response to his request. Then I came to my senses.

Last night I held a "yoga on the beach" party. My best friend and I went to the beach a few hours before party time to enjoy the sun, waves and friend time as well as make sure we were the first ones at the party. As the start time for the beach games approached I was disappointed that hoards of yogis were not descending on the area we staked out with our Hillbillly Golf Game (i.e. a game similar to horsehoes but played with a ladder frame and golf balls on rope) and our yoga mats. I lamented that we might be the only ones. She wisely responded (as she so often does) that "many people really wanted to come but it was Saturday and they got caught up with Saturday things and the time slipped away from them. Besides it wouldn't be so bad with just the two of us." She was right. If no one else showed up we would get all the prizes (including the wine and beer - how awesome is that?) and I would get more time with my best friend who has been working so much lately I have hardly seen her.

I relaxed and the yogis started to arrive. Some came for the games and more came for the yoga. People around us stopped to watch. We invited them to join us but they just continued to watch. The weather was incredible. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the water was clear, there wasn't any seaweed washed up on shore and the sand felt cool as you dug your fingers in to stay balanced in a pose. Some people from Florida or Hawaii won't come to the beach because it isn't Florida or Hawaii. They just haven't seen Galveston in October. If they only knew what they were missing their mat would have been next to mine on the beach.

The sun was getting close to setting as I invited the group to lie back on their mats, relax their legs and wiggle their toes, roll their head from side to side and let everything sink into the sand. Then, all we heard was the ocean, all we smelled was the clean cool air.

Quick - get the camera - snap a picture for Yeah Dave.

It's the Little Things In Life That Count the Most

One of the guys from my weight lifting class was working out with his friend a few weeks ago. They were running on the treadmill. He felt "funny" and funny enough to go to the doctor and get checked out. Fortunately for him, they discovered a problem with his heart through a stress test before a major disaster and were able to take care of it with surgery. I asked our weight class to contribute healthy snacks to put in a basket for our weight lifting friend and bring them to class today. His workout partner was taking the basket to him after class. The workout partner came up to me and told me that people were great and that this was such a nice thing and he was so appreciative. It was a little thing but it made a big impact and I was grateful to be a part of that event.

My husband is traveling and I called him to ask him a question this afternoon. He commented that the phone calls were non-stop since he got off the plane but he had to answer this one (mine) because it was the most important one. I laughed and told him I appreciated his joking - but I really think he was serious - could he have been? It was a little thing but it made a big impact and I was grateful to be a part of the event.

This evening in yoga class I moved about the room adjusting people and assisting them in making it deeper into poses.I helped one guy move deeper into a triangle pose. I helped him turn and then lean a little farther over and then I moved onto the next person. He came up to me after class with a big smile on his face, saying the class tonight was the best ever and thanked me. It was a little thing but it made a big impact and I was grateful to be a part of the event.

Go do little things. They will make big impacts and you will be grateful to be a part of the event.

Keep On Truckin'

I have had endless problems with my cell phone company as many of my friends well know. The latest episode involved a 40 minute telephone call to correct billing errors they made and a few trips to the store to exchange a phone that died - all in one day. After the call, I sat there on the verge of tears from the countless hours of frustration I racked up over the last six months and wondered - when is enough, enough? "Not until I get what I need!" I thought as I typed up a letter to the Chief Service Officer of the Company.

I admit, I am more persistent than most. I am always disappointed when I see new people leave the yoga room early in their first class. It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen. I wonder what I could have done differently to stop it. I am assured by the regulars that there wasn't anything I could have said or done differently. "Some people just give up more quickly than others", they say.

During class there are always people stopping, sitting down or laying down for a few minutes or more - finding a pose that works better for them at that moment. Some laugh as I demonstrate a pose with my hands on the floor and my feet in the air. I can hear their "no way" or the noises that tell me they are thinking "you have got to be kidding". But they stay. And they work through the poses and they rest when they need to and "no way" turns into "some day". And there they are - with their hands on the floor and their feet in the air.

Keep on truckin'!

Be Careful What You Say

My younger son, a true engineer, was designing a beverage holder for his golf bag and had a six pack of Coke that he was using in his experiment out in the garage. He left for college and the experiment was left behind. I brought the Cokes into the house to get them out of the heat (for fear they might explode sitting out in the garage) and left them on the barstool to empty and recycle later.

That night my husband and I came in from a fun evening playing games at a friend's house - if you call losing to my husband every time we play a game fun. Actually we are able to take him down occasionally, just not last night. As I walked in the door I noticed the floor dirty from all the barbecuing and just people walking in and out of the house earlier that day. I declared loudly that I was going to call my friend's maid to clean the house because I just couldn't mop the floor one more time. I was so tired of cleaning the floor and was ready for my "back to school" treat - the maid. Every summer when the boys leave for college I treat myself to a house cleaning by a professional and I was ready.

As I walked past the bar stools heading to the computer room to shut off my laptop for the night, I knocked the stool where I had placed the Coke cans earlier in the day. The cans hit the floor exploding into rivers of Coke running along the grout grooves and then just pouring over the tiles, splashing onto the couch and chair (thank goodness for easy clean up leather). I let loose a few words of surprise, resigned myself to pulling out the mop, bleach and pail and mopped the floor - one more time!

In yoga, I was settling down on my mat in the front of the room as the last of the Zumba dancers from the class before mine exited the room. I saw an instructor and another friend heading out the door and lightheartedly gave them a hard time for not staying for yoga. The instructor said her body just couldn't handle getting tied up in a pretzel that night. I started to laugh because some times I have a theme night (like head and shoulders - headstands and shoulder stands) and tonight was "pretzel night" - with a plan for a lot of twists and human pretzel poses. The class looked at me with fear in their eyes when I revealed that to them after her comment.

Be careful what you say - you just might get it.

In My Space - In My Face

I was able to board the plane early thanks to my husband's frequent flying privileges. I was on my way to meet him to play in his company's annual golf tournament. It would be a welcome but short get-away from the Texas heat. I was pleased the airline switched our plane from the original itsy bitsy teeny tiny express jet it was supposed to be - to a 737. It resulted in more empty seats than I expected, which is always nice for the passengers but not the airline. I took my window seat in the exit row that I love for the extra room for my extra long legs. Other passengers continued to board the plane.

Eventually a gentleman - good looking to boot - entered my row and took the aisle seat. He was engaged in a cell phone conversation that he continued with until the main cabin door was closed and all cell phones had to be turned off. He hung his jacket on the tray table hook of the seat between us as he sat down. Throughout the flight he was pleasant, occasionally making a comment regarding happenings on the plane. He perused one part of his newspaper keeping the other sections in the seat between us. It ended up holding his jacket (which moved there when he lowered the middle seat tray table to make a place for his drinks), wallet, napkin and a few other assorted articles. He lowered his own tray table to make room for his laptop and remained engaged in his work for most of the flight - until his three beers (or was it four? - I blame it on my wine!) at high altitude kicked in!

With his beers spread out on the middle tray table and his belongings filling the chair between us, I suddenly felt a little claustrophobic. My space was being taken over ever so subtly. I placed my wine cup (I wish I'd brought my own real glass) on the tray table between us, opened my bottle and poured myself a glass on "his" tray table, leaving mine empty. I smirked as I started to edge into his space - looked out the window at the beautiful sunset and smiled. "I'll bet he doesn't even realize what he did or that I am writing about him" - I thought.

He really turned out to be quite a nice fellow. We talked after dinner about our work and families as his beers kicked in and his desire to focus on his work waned. I am sure he didn't mean to take over the space like he did. But a real gentleman (like my husband) would have asked if I minded if he used the open seat or table or if we could share.

I was reminded of the space on the plane issue the other day when a gym member I had not seen in a long time ran into me after my class. She moved in very close while she was talking. I wanted to take a step back but was up against a wall already. I thought maybe it was just because she is a hair dresser and usually gets right up next to people to work on them that she was so comfortable being so close. I laughed to myself as it almost seemed absurd and wondered if I "got in people's space" too.

In yoga I try to respect people's space. I do not step on their mats. I let people know I am near if their head is down and they don't see me coming. I gently touch their shoulder as a warning. I ask permission to adjust their pose.

It is ok to be in other people's space - just ask permission first.