Do Something, Day 11

Day 11, I worked in the morning and went to yoga in the evening.  Brett's class.  He tends to be more of a moving active teacher with a spice of spirit thrown in there.  He makes us work for it.  Push harder, but at your own pace.  Seems like an odd combination, but I'm always the most sore after his classes, I find.

It was a good class, and I dedicated the class to a little boy whose aunt I work with.  He has stage 3 Wilm's Disease, a kidney cancer that spreads quickly as a tumor.  The tumor was beginning to invade his heart when they found it, and he'd done at least one round of chemo and radiation, but had started another round of chemo, I believe.  It had only been weeks since his diagnoses, but he was being treated aggressively due to the nature of the disease.

In any case, he was getting ready for surgery in the morning, and was all I could think of, so I decided to dedicate the practice to him, and his family, to healing and peace, whatever that ended up meaning for the moment.  You could say it was body prayer, or intention, whatever you want to call it...  but it changed the whole practice.

Yes, it was still hard, and my limbs began to shake from holding poses for a long time, as they will do in Brett's class...  but I found I did not notice so much, or really care.  It wasn't the point this time.  The intention I set at the beginning of the practice was the focus, and I was able to keep that in sight rather than the rest of it.

Afterward, I felt drained and quiet, didn't really want to talk.  Got the kids from the pool and just sat quietly while waiting for them.  It is such a difference from my usual practice just focusing on the things happening in the body and the room.  I feel energized and happy after those.  I was somber and sad, this time.  

If you have never dedicated a practice to another person, who is hurting or ill or in a bad place in their lives, I would encourage you to do so.  It brought my practice to a whole new level, and I will definitely continue to do this.  This practice is a more mental one, for sure, but it also translated to very sore muscles the following day.  I pushed myself harder than I have done lately, for a purpose.  For someone else.  And it was beautiful.

(The little boy, Preston, had his surgery the following morning.  That practice was also dedicated to him, and happened as he was going into the room.  Last I heard, the tumor was totally removed, and he was heading into the recovery room.  Updates later as I have them.)