I haven't sweat that much since Venezuela. Our claim to fame, "The Hottest Mission in the World." And it killed me. Misery. I'm gonna be honest. Misery.
I hate sweating! I hate it! But for a friend, I attended her hot Piyo class.
Somehow I was liking it. My joints could move more freely, I felt I was more flexible, I felt lighter. In fact, I think I loved it.
That was in 95 degrees.
Then I went to Hot Yoga. 105 degree studio. Super Yogi teachers, the ones that worship yoga like it's their religion (those are the best ones). I just didn't realize that I was suppose to come in just my underwear like everybody else. (I bought some Yogi Shorts on the way out that day.)
I went in.
The teacher's voice was therapeutic. She explained things like a dove. "Let your heart melt into your knees…Curve that spine, our getting all of the benefits of stretching out that aniyanabanda, breathing oxygen into your heart, your soul…" You know. I can't even give you an example really.
I sweat. A lot. Drips of sweat. For like the third time in my life. (Just not a sweat-er.)
And I walked out saying, "Woah. Loved that."
Not only did I feel like all of the toxins in my body were flushed out, but I felt like the toxins in my mind were sloughing off. Dripping out of my body and soul. Floating away.
My soul was lighter when I left.
Must have more.
Last night with Jason. As we sweat our hearts out, all thirty of us, me being the biggest one in the room. My realizing I have a lot more body fat than I thought. Me realizing there really was no core strength there, just leftover jiggle from baby incubating this last time. And me thinking, man, I should eat better.
Then I looked in my eyes.
Wow.
That's me.
Those eyes are me.
"Look at yourself in the mirror. Honor yourself. This isn't about being better than your neighbor. It's not even about being better than you were yesterday. So just focus. Find your balance. And float. Honor yourself and express how you want to as you hold this tree pose."
Sweat drips off the tip of my nose.
I think I like me.
I have jiggle. Yeah. But I have three kids to show for it, so eh.
But those eyes. Those eyes of mine. I can see the soul that belongs underneath those eyes. And I think I like her.
She looks like someone that has been through hard things, that has taken on hard challenges, that gives back to the universe. She has gifts. And she wants to bless others with her gifts. I think I like that friend I see inside those eyes.
Jason finger paints giant-sized hearts into the windows of the studio, steamed with our sweat.
We move into a pose, an inversion, where the blood rushes to your head.
"As the blood pools in your head, that's breathing fresh new blood and carrying oxygen to your center. This pose works on your emotions. As you quickly arise and as all those emotions are made free, don't be afraid if you feel those emotions well up. Don't be surprised if you even start to cry."
Cry? Huh? Nope. Not happening.
As we lay down for shavasana, and I see the dimmed light above my eyes, it's like a bright light in the darkness. I smile. Big. Maybe bigger than I've smiled in weeks. Months. I felt so happy! Wow. The world is a wonderful place! I love life! Joy coming out my fingertips and nostrils!
Then tears. Tears well up in the outside corners of my eyes. Not enough for them to fall, since I stopped myself, not allowing myself to be that free yet. But just enough that I knew they were there. Just enough to know that this heat, this sweating, this being back in Venezuela is good.
Real good.
