One year ago today...
four of us met in Shipe Park, with excitement and trepidation. Annette, Clayton, Paula and me. It felt transgressive in the best way. It felt important. A huge relief! To be with old friends, see faces. We are okay, so far, we could see. Spring was playing games with us. Our mats were like ten feet apart.
Today (April 6th 2021, a date that sounds like it was pulled from a sci-fi novel) we celebrated one solid fucking year of Park Yoga.
It's been amazing to have other souls float in and out; two of them today floated in last summer and have stayed, to the benefit of all. Such beautiful energy! Tiffany, who has snuck off a few times to watch ballet videos with her 90-something friend in New Orleans. Sheri, dog lover and power mover shaker, navigating so many transitions including losing a loved canine friend. Her tears were a gift; she felt comfortable to cry with us.
Clayton started it all with a whispered suggestion. She's survived COVID but not without a bunch of pain and growth and certainly not the easy tales we sometimes hear. Paula had a frickin' hysterectomy during a global pandemic! Tell her younger self that and watch the eyebrows raise in disbelief. And let's raise a slightly blurry, grassy glass to several other forces of nature who could not be there today.
I'm grateful for each of you, everyone who has sat and breathed and moved and bowed with me outdoors during this crazy year. Namaste!
Tyler's sweet friend
John, my nephew!
Angela's sweet friend (whose name begins with "A"?)