Here's what I have noticed about Northwest Ohio Yoga:
(1) No one OMs. There is some kind of panic, apparently, that sets in when people around these parts are asked to OM. I have a keen desire for a really juicy group OM. Please, someone OM with me!
(2) Where the heck are the hands on assists? I want someone to put their hands all over me. Please. I beg you. Teachers out here are apparently afraid to touch people. I miss the days when I felt that I was being left out because other people needed more adjustments than I did; now I just want someone to touch me for any reason at all. I want to get a job teaching yoga again just so that I can touch people and show them just how glorious hands-on assists can be.
(3) The spiritual element of yoga is typically ignored by many teachers here. Americanized yoga = "Wow I can exercise and it will help me not get fat! Check out my mad mad super bad chaturanga!" You know what? In the last couple of years I have learned to just accept my body as it is. I don't care anymore that I am a size 12. I'm pretty hot for an old lady. Give me another doughnut, because I just want some OMing, some chanting, and some goddamn inner peace. Talk to me about feminine energy and my inner Shakti. Let's sing some "Om gam ganapataye nahama." Ganesha, move those obstacles! Let's get flaky and light some candles and talk about the things that make us break into tears. Because that's where the real yoga is.
Tonight I went to a winter solstice temple meeting. I hung out with a super flaky lady who was all about singing and chanting and dancing and making me feel both super uncomfortable and super at home at the same time. We welcomed the darkness of winter, and we welcomed the new light that is coming now that the days will once again grow longer. My darkness is something I have struggled with for a long time. My light, I think, was that I just need to forgive myself for refusing to be forgiving; because clearly, I am not yet ready. And that is just going to have to be okay for now.
