Yoga en Espanol

Last night, I went to my first yoga class in Spanish. It was in a tiny room in a little building off of a tiny side street. Surrounded by 9 other people, Laurie, the teacher, began by leading us in relaxation. Of course all I understood was to close my eyes, inhale and exhale. Luckily, those are the most important components. As the class proceeded, I tapped into my existing yoga knowledge allowing me to follow with relative ease. The tightness of the space was illuminated when during one pose, my feet banged against the open door spurring a minor giggle fit. The tight space aside, my inner peace was most rattled every time a new Spanish word was used as I desperately tried to place it. Achieving at times, and at other times, reminding myself to let go and be present with the yoga despite my insufficient vocabulary. During the entire class Laurie was talking about doing something to our “hombros,” It was in the final pose when she used that word and all my peers proceeded to do a shoulder stand that I realized hombros meant shoulders. I may have missed a few cues to release the tension in my shoulders, but at least I had learned a new word. I have been taking Spanish classes all week, but I cannot really imagine a better Spanish class than yoga, at least for human anatomy.

While it may not have been the most centering or challenging yoga class of my life, it would have to be among the top. When my mind would drift to worldy tasks or the frustration of not understanding would seep in, I would look up and see that I was in a colonial building with colorful walls. That there was tranquil music playing and incense burning. That behind Laurie, steel gate doors were open onto a courtyard full of lush plants. That there was a beautiful bouquet of flowers perched on the shelf to my right. That when Laurie asked, “Donde tu mente?” I understood what she was asking, “where is your mind?,” and I was instantly drawn back to my intention of this trip repeating those words over and over in my head, “donde mi mente, donde mi mente…” That this was my life. Learning Spanish in a yoga class in Oaxaca, Mexico. It could be worse.

Today, I am going to follow that bliss. In a few hours, I am boarding a “Suburban,” what I understand to be a big van, to Mazunte. When I arrive, I plan to go to a retreat center and be silent for 10 days. There is so much more I could say about that plan. Yet, it somehow does not feel appropriate. So for now, I will leave it at that.