Saturday morning yoga has become my new favorite part of the week. I have to drive a bit--about twenty miles--but it's totally worth it. Teacher Rita is absolutely awesome and I feel like I learn as much from her as I did from Molly when I was first starting out. She compliments me right in the middle of class in front of everybody (the first time I almost turned around and said "Thanks!" until I remembered where I was...yikes) and gives great adjustments that really help me push to the next level of my practice.
I've discovered that I don't push myself as much as I can. For whatever reason--self-preservation, laziness, etc--I'll go to where I think is my max. Then Rita (or Nielle...she's awesome too) will come over and touch my back, leg, whatever, or give a verbal cue, and suddenly I'm bent forward another inch, or twisted another quarter inch. It's kind of weird, but I think indicative of how I am as a person--I can only go so far by myself and I am definitely dependent on other people I trust to help me get where I need to go.
I spend between 5-8 hours a week practicing yoga. My writing has been suffering lately something fierce, and I wonder if I spent an hour a day writing with a "yoga writing teacher" how much better I would be. I write every day. BUT, I know that if I did an hour of yoga a day on my own rather than with a teacher I wouldn't be nearly where I am with my yoga practice. So, maybe I do belong in an MFA program. Maybe I do need writing teachers...not to teach me the elements, or to teach me how to workshop, but to be a guide in my writing practice just as Rita and Nielle are in my yoga practice.
All I know is I'm so much better at yoga than at anything else I do, and it's because I practice it an hour a day. There are only a certain number of hours in the day, and I'm sort of fascinated that I picked yoga over writing. There's something in that, I think...I just don't totally have a grasp on it yet.