The engergy of love

A pulse surged through my body tonight at yoga. It was a one-time over-sized heartbeat that seemed to encompass me from head to toe.

This may sound crazy, but it was my Dad. Or rather, my Dad's spirit.

I think he approves.

Somehow, this hyper-focus I have on yoga these days seems like a 'right fit', and I think it has everything to do with my own sense of need for physical fitness, coupled with my gentle, unassuming nature.

Where does my Dad fit in?

Honestly, while he was here, I think he felt that his own sense of well-being lacked in a way.

I have his support, through his spirit. Ever since he left in September, I've felt him near by; not all the time, mind you, but consistently.

I've found it incredibly easy to be gentle with myself, and 'priority' stuff for me has changed, I think, for the better. My focus, however selfish it may seem to some, has been on me: my body, mind and spirit. All three have taken a bit of a beating as of late, and perhaps it's simple survival mode setting in, but things like money, working insane hours and limiting beliefs like what I can and cannot do have all taken a back seat to "here's something I CAN do, and it IS making a difference."

Tonight's experience was peaceful. Not only did I feel a sense of my Dad's spirit, it was also gentle and encouraging.

There's something about the yoga studio that is so unlike the gym or even anywhere else outside in the world. It seems that the barrier that exisits between people in public isn't there in the yoga studio, yet everyone's 'space' is respected.

Our instructor, Sara, had encouraging words for me tonight. Not only that, when we moved into Shavasana at the end, she made her way around the room to gently adjust us. It was several minutes before she came to me, and she did something completely respectful and healing, yet surprisingly personal. Personal probably because it addressed a very real area of stress in my body. She pressed my shoulders back into the mat, then massaged my temples and ran her fingers through my hair, which my massage therapist calls "fuffing your ora". Good for the soul, I'm sure.

I came away energized and encouraged, which are two feelings I haven't felt in a long time anywhere but the yoga studio.

Namaste.