Saturday afternoon I opened my inbox to see an email that I dismissed at first glance. It was from a friend who I hadn't seen in a few months, asking if I wanted to attend a hot yoga class at 8am on Sunday morning. At first I rolled my eyes and thought heck no. Exercise? On a Sunday? When I'm normally in my comfy pj's? No way.
And then I reconsidered. And said yes.
Sunday morning came early at our house, as always, and Fynn and I were on the couch by 6. I headed out the door by 7:20, to a snow covered car and freezing temperatures. The highway was bare, and I thought only a fool would be heading to a yoga class this early, on a day meant for rest.
The facility was small, tucked in the back of a commercial zoned property. Minimal cars in the parking lot, but I spotted my friends minivan. Steam escaped as I gingerly stepped through the door.
Shortly after I walked in I was surprised that the class filled with over a dozen yoga pants wearing women, all toting mats, towels and water bottles.
And we began. With music that was unlike any other yoga class I'd been to - Jack Johnson, John Mayer and "Falling slowly" from the film Once. We worked through our postures in the heated room with sweat dripping and bodies reaching. Minds focused and open. It was familiar, yet totally foreign all at once. At points I looked over at my friend and she'd catch my gaze and smile as we'd both sigh with a knowing smile. Spiritually stretched and happy, with a hint of ache.
I signed up for five classes.
It was a beautifully mindful experience, that I'm still a little sore from. My abs remind me upon every cough and laugh that I spent an hour and a half working muscles that hadn't been touched in months. The elliptical I hopped on a few times last week couldn't reach in and knead and open. Hearts and minds, and a voice.
Truthfully I've found the greatest support in my recover from friends online who write about their own experiences, as well as a few in my daily life {ahem... husband... } who reach out and accept and try to understand. I hope I haven't closed myself off from the others, but I know that I lean on and talk to those who have been through all of this or who are going through it right now. It's natural. I don't expect everyone to understand, or tell me what I need to hear, so I don't often reach out to an unknown possible comfort, if that makes sense.
But this friend, she knows me. She knew that this was something I needed, even that I unknowingly craved. This experience, this pile of suck I'm working through, has given light to friends who I underestimated. A few have stepped up in ways I never expected. They've shown through acts of kindness and unexpected gifts that they listen, read, and know. And for that I am eternally grateful.
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Please visit Emily at Chatting at the Sky for more Tuesday’s Unwrapped. You’ll find simple moments and simple mysteries unwrapped in everyday life. Enjoy!