Breathing in the City

Last week I found out that the public library just a few blocks from my house has a free yoga class on Saturdays at noon. Now I love our library, I've spent many hours there, attended meetings there, etc. but I was surprised because well, it's a library and most of the "classes" they offer are things like mah jong or black and white movie discussions. So today I rolled up my yoga mat and walked over to the library to check it out.

And it was awesome. Really. In Yuma I "belonged" to a yoga studio for almost a year and I really liked it. It was hard work, it was fun and it was good for me but it was also very expensive. So the free part here caught my eye. But this experience was something different.

I felt a little bit like what I imagine it feels like to live in New York City. Walking to a yoga class, settling in with all kinds of different people: young, old, in shape, not in shape, different colors, different sexes, even some very young kids. And then the instructor told us that if we took nothing else away from today she wanted us to take away the idea of breathing. Deep concentrated breathes that you focus on. For the first five minutes all we did was sit up straight and breathe in and out. She wanted to hear our breath. Then we breathed through just one nostril, then the other. It was a lot of breathing and it was exactly what I needed today.

It's been a busy week. I've spent hours each day grading rough drafts of essays, outlines, reference lists. I prepared and pitched ideas for spec episodes of both NCIS: Los Angeles and The Big Bang Theory in my classes this week. I edited my Bones spec and sent it and my screenplay to a manager. I applied for some internships and jobs. I volunteered. I picked a friend up at the airport. I worked out almost every day. I worked on editing my novel. I cooked and did laundry. I wrote two Lenten devotionals for my church. I worried. I ate. I went to see a sneak preview of Valentine's Day. I tried to be a good friend and sister and still squeeze some time in to read the third book of the Twilight series.

And guess what I forgot to do this week? Breathe. I'm not sure I did it at all. I marked things off the to-do list. I created other lists. I watched TV. I slept. But I didn't breathe. Not in the sense of sitting and focusing and doing nothing else and thinking of nothing else but that moment's breath. And I need to do that more often. As my yoga instructor said today, there is nothing more important in life than breath. With the first breath we are born and with the last breath we die.

This week I'll try breathing a little more. And I'm already looking forward to the next yoga class. Yes, there were too many people in the little conference room. Yes, some of them were noisy and came in late. Yes, the old women who run the book sale in the room before our class were crotchety when they were hurried out. But none of that matters. All that matters is the breathing.

This week I wish you many deep breathes. Many quiet moments.