I’m consciously trying to live my life, rather than putting it on hold because I think/expect/hope that we might be moving house. So I signed up for yoga classes that meet near my house, three times a week (non-teaching days). It’s a pleasant short walk over there, and the yoga studio looks out into the trees. All three classes are taught by different women. Tuesday, great. Thursday, fine. Saturday . . . wow.

I spent the whole time thinking “Shut up, shut up, shut up, could we get some quiet over here? I’m going to have to go home and do yoga to get over this experience. Should I just leave now? It would be so much easier to get calm and centered if you would shut up. I don’t care that you fixed your husband and kid their breakfast before you left because it was someone’s birthday.”

Let me be clear: this was all the teacher. I’ve been in some generally chatty classes, where people want to catch up with their friends, but that is not what was going on. The (few) other class members today were quiet and apparently focused on their practice. But from the teacher we got a constant flow of “feel the energy” type comments mixed with snippets about her family life and recent experiences, and, occasionally, some actual useful information about what we should be doing with a pose.

I left feeling certain I would not be back, and rather cross about this because the combination of time and place are really good for me. Since I got home, however, I’ve been quite productive. I did more yoga. I did some baking, prepped preserved lemons, paid bills, ordered some things I need online, sent a message to a family member about shipping more Stuff from FamilyLand. I’ve done a little bit of tidying up, though I still need to do much more. When I write it out, it doesn’t seem like that much, but my weekend mornings often start with several hours of drinking tea, reading blogs, and staring into space feeling that I really ought to do something. Anything. Any time now . . .

So maybe I should keep gritting my teeth through this class. Maybe it really does energize me. Or motivate me to be quiet and focused, in order to counter the unwelcome chatter.

It also made me think about the unintended consequences of both good intentions that don’t produce the desired results, and of negative experiences that get one’s attention or inspire a desire to be different/better. Maybe (to pick up TLQ’s gardening metaphor) I need to be hardened, left outside in the cold a bit; or to have some growth pinched back to make me grow bushier; or forced to grow up a trellis.

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