Yoga

PE (Physical Education) was the bane of my existence in upper elementary and junior high school.  I had no eye-hand coordination and participating in organized sports was a totally embarrassing activity  The fastest way to make me come down with the swine flue was to tell me in advance that we were going to play a game tomorrow. 

Perhaps being tall helped me hit the ball with more force when we played softball, but I only connected once in awhile, and when a ball was hit to me I always fumbled and had to run after it.  When I played HORSE at home with my family I could make baskets from nearly anyplace on the court, but I couldn't dribble or guard or steal the basketball during a game.  I could serve in tennis or volleyball, but I always hit the ball into the net if I was lucky enough to reach it before it hit the ground when my serve was returned.  I stunk at football, I could never figure out the basics of that game, and I didn't even try soccer. 

You can imagine my dismay, then, when I learned that PE was a required class for at least two of my three years in high school.  Bummer!   

My first semester in high school PE was everything I had imagined it would be.  Awful.  We played sports, and I was miserable like always.  But then, to my immense relief and pleasure, I discovered that 2nd semester we got to learn a bunch of different activities, starting with bowling!  What fun!  It's kind of hard to bowl without a bowling alley, but the teacher only wanted us to learn the rules and scoring, and we could do that even with our improvised lanes set up on the tennis court.

Every couple of weeks that semester we changed and tried out a new sport, ending up with Yoga, an activity that's probably not even classified as a sport, but I sure did enjoy it.  One thing I was blessed with, perhaps to compensate for my lack of coordination, was good flexibility.  It is still no big deal for me to stand with my legs straight, bend over at the waist, and place my palms flat on the floor in front of me.  So I was a natural at the lotus position, the sun pose, and all the other stretches and poses we were supposed to get ourselves into.  And it was fun!

The best part about yoga, though, was at the end of the class when we had to lay down on our mats, relax, and focus our minds on some beautiful scene we remembered.  I could do that really good.

The images I always chose to remember were from the cabin.  When I closed my eyes I could clearly see the deep pond at the spring where we used to swim when I was little.  One side of the creak was formed by huge, granite rocks, white and smooth and hot under the summer sun.  I would lie on those rocks and gaze into the cool, clear water, watching ripples spread across it's smooth surface as tiny minnows swam among the long stems of grass at the water's edge.  Or I would gaze across the creek, into the dense shade created by old sycamore, poplar, black walnut and cottonwood trees, growing close together on the far bank, under which dainty yellow daisies and red Indian paint brushes poked their heads through the tall stems of gamma grass. 

Another favorite memory which always helped me relax was of floating on my back in the deep swimming hole just below the cabin, looking up at the sparkling leaves above me as they danced in the breeze.  The leaves were the color of summer; lemon yellow, lime green, and emerald; flashing sunlight off them as they turned and twisted high above me on their overhanging branches.  They were so dense and full that they almost hid the sky, but every now and then a particularly strong gust of wind would push them aside for a moment, and then the color of the sky was so amazing it startled my eyes.  Peacock blue, it was deeper and cooler than any artist could ever capture.  Oh, it was pretty!

Then, if for some reason I couldn't bring either of these two pictures into focus in my mind, I would imagine my third, and favorite scene.  It was standing on the hill where our cabin was built, looking off towards the north, over the top of grandma and grandpa's cabin down below,  through the branches of the huge cottonwood tree that stood behind their cabin, and off across miles of open space, over the tops of the forest, to the mountain that stood purple and blue against the sky, offset by big, white, puffy clouds.  Every time I went to the cabin I would stand on the hill and gaze at that scene, memorizing every detail of it so I could see it any time I needed to go home to the cabin in my mind.

We only had a few minutes at the end of each yoga class to practice relaxing, but it made such a difference with how my day went, and it was good practice for the rest of my life.  The techniques I learned helped immeasurable when I had my babies, and at other times when I needed to relax, refocus, and unwind.  So in the end, after all my complaining about PE, I ended up being really glad I had to take it during high school.