This morning I awoke relieved to discover that my dreams were not reality. My nightmare unfolded like a suspense-horror film. The day started like any other; my yoga mat in hand, I walked to my regular 5:15 Wednesday class. There were no hints along the way until I rounded the corner to walk upstairs at my gym towards the yoga studio. I saw more people than normal, lined up laying on mats on the floor. Bodies and mats were closer than normal to fit us all in, packed like sujvathsana sardines. The silence was deafening when instead of our guru Renata, the owner of the gym entered the room. He broke the devastating news that the gym would no longer offer yoga classes. That we could practice on our own, or in groups..but there would be no more instructors.
The group quickly divided into pockets of different reactions. One die-hard group went right to down-dog and invincibly went forward with their practice. Others resigned to kick-boxing or step...and then there was my camp. We sobbed and carried on like the poor souls at the Astrodome, weeping on our mats at the loss we had incurred. How could life go on? It would never be the same... (to be continued)
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