Again With Boots
If I appear slightly obsessed with boots… well…I guess I can live with that.
But it’s not my fault. Boots just keep tromping into my life.
To recap (yeah, that’s another post; everything converges), I bought these great boots, although I had to get them two sizes too big in order to zip them up around my sixty-year-old calves.
They’re big, dark, biker boots, but I like them. I am still on the lookout though, for the classy version. (The yellow rainboots will stay in my fantasy life.)
The weather was kind of nasty Monday, so I wore them to my Yoga class. Not to do Yoga in – just to leave them looking fabulous by the door.
This is my new Yoga class. To be exact, it’s my second new Yoga class this year. At the beginning of January, I decided to step it up and I enrolled in the advanced Yoga class at a terrific new studio. I’ve been practicing Yoga for ten years. I figured it was time to advance. I took two classes. After the first class, the very kind instructor pointed out that I might want to consider the 7PM beginner’s class. I explained that I wanted to challenge myself.
After the second class, the very kind instructor pointed out that the beginner’s class is still available.
So after considerable soul-searching (actually, it wasn’t so much soul-searching as wrist-searching; thirty plank asanas per class is a LOT), I went to the beginner’s class this week.
After all, Yoga is not a competition (Yes, I have a blogpost about that too). It is a state of mind. It is ‘being in the moment’. I just happen to have been in the same moment for ten years.
Of course, if Yoga was a competition, I could win in the most-consistent category.
…By the way, here is my favorite (i.e., only) Yoga joke: What did the yogi say to the hot dog vendor? ’Make me one with everything.’ …
Okay, that’s not exactly the moment.
But beginner’s class was good. I liked it. So what if everyone else was trying Yoga for the very first time? That just made me the most graceful person in the class. Except for falling out of my ‘tree’ of course. My tree always sways in the breeze. I am a birch, not an oak.
After class, I sat on the bench in the anteroom to put on my gorgeous boots.
A tall, willowy beginner yogini – so, okay, she could hold her tree…big deal…showed me again that she could stand on one foot. She put on her boots standing up. Long skinny black boots.
But here was the amazing part: While I struggled to get the two sides of the zipper to meet around my calf, this young thing’s boots were already zipped. She must have pulled them off without bothering to unzip them. And then she put them back on the same way. She just pulled them on.
Those boots must have been made out of the most stretchy material ever invented.
She just pulled them on!
I was filled with awe. Which is a by-product of Yoga.
And hostility. Which is not exactly.