Searching The Vaults
It's the church basement, or lower level. Nicely appointed shiny commercial tile shined and windows that let in a good amount of sunlight.
I'm lean, about nineteen, charming and engaging - easy. My mom is a yoga teacher - one of the best in the city. She has a class this Saturday at the church but can't make it - so she has me take over for her. I'm supple enough and part trained. Her method of teaching was so smooth and well transitioned, I merely follow what I've seen her do many times and pull it off with no struggle. The students, (mostly women) were happy to see me and I was happy for them as they seem quite satisfied with the class.
It wasn't until many (forty two?) years later that I realized how much of a master teacher my mother was. She was gone and I took a class with someone else. It was more of a muscle based class with people huffing and puffing, many times straining, nothing like my mothers' class. Mom's class was full of ease and effortlessness while still creating new life in muscles seldom used. You felt invigorated yet relaxed at the end of it.
I miss her so much.
No comments:
Post a Comment