Of Course Camels Cry

I have a few favorite postures when it comes to Bikram yoga. The postures, or asanas, that I favor tend to be some of the more difficult, dare I say, "master," postures. I happen to be good at them - not perfect - but I'm good at them. 

Among these is ustrasana. This is camel pose. This posture is the 23rd of 26 postures in a standard class and is the deepest backward bend of the series. I've attached a more adequate description of it. 

What isn't included in the description is the fact that this posture can cause a reaction that has nothing to do with the spine. 

My favorite posture opens the heart. It is common to feel dizzy, nauseous, sick after this posture; even emotional. 

Cut to tonight. 

The room is so fucking hot. I'm pretty sure it's hotter than usual and this particular instructor keeps the heat higher than most. Add to that the new flooring that seems to bounce the 105-or-higher degree heat right back up. The 40% -or-higher humidity is all I feel and I'm directly under a vent that is pumping it directly onto me. 

She has only cracked the door once in nearly 90 minutes, for two seconds, and when she turns the fans on it just beats hot, thick air into my soaking wet and tired body. What crosses my mind, what never crosses my mind, is I'm going to leave the room. 

I never leave the room. As hot and humid and hard as this is, I don't give up. I've never left the room unless time didn't permit a full class. I've considered it - but never like this. I'm planning my escape. The whole time I'm in half tortoise pose, pulling my hips to my heels and stretching my arms out with my nose on the floor, I'm going to leave this fucking room. 

But ustrasana is next. That's my favorite. And when I'm in a posture I may be aware of the next one but it's not something I think about. I can't think. I can only do the posture I'm in and breathe. I can only focus on what I'm doing and when it's time to leave the room, it's time for camel posture. 

And I do it. I plant my knees on the floor and push my hips forward while staring at my own eyes in the mirror. I look spent, like how they make women in movies look when the women are giving birth. I'm red and drenched and even my hair is sweating. My hands push my hips forward as my head drops back and I place my right hand on my right foot, left hand on my left foot. I push everything, stomach, hips, thighs forward. I lift my chest high and my hands remain on my heels. I push and push and push and see the back wall, breathing through my nose. 

Then it's over. Shavasana; corpse pose. I cannot tell if there's noise because I can only hear my own heart pounding and there's no telling the difference between sweat and the tears running down my face as I lay on my back. 

I'm crying. There's no doubt that I'm crying but my gaze is soft and focused on the ceiling and my breathe remains normal. For those 20 seconds I feel proud and strong. My heart is open and I think how funny that is that my favorite posture is the heart opening posture. I think, in those 20 seconds, about my entire body and how lonely it's been. I think of all the places on my body that aren't being touched. I think about the brutal honesty that I've spoken recently. I think of the people I love and how much I love them. I think about how much I love myself and how I could've easily crumbled recently; how I have at times, but I haven't stopped. I haven't given up or caved in. I haven't even considered it. 

My favorite posture opens my heart and leaves me feeling better for it. I cried tonight, and it's happened a little before but never like this. My favorite posture heels the damage done and opens me up to receive more than I could ever imagine. This master posture is late in the class and would be easy to abandon, if that was how I operate. Clearly it isn't. My favorite posture is really trying. My favorite posture leaves me vulnerable late in the game. 

I did not leave the room tonight - no fucking way. 

The Truth Is

I'm lonely and heartbroken and because it feels like shit to admit it, I'll stick with, "Great, thanks! How are you?!"

It Happens in Your Sleep

I think it happens in your sleep. 

You go to bed one night, as usual, and you fall asleep. You drift into that slumber because your body and mind are ready for it. 

While you're asleep, you dream. Your body shifts and your pillows move. You grab at blankets and adjust. You aren't aware of what you're even capable of. You may even speak. You drool. You might walk. Your hands make their ways to parts of yourself, that can happen too. 

All of this happens while you're not even conscious. And if you're alone, unless you set up some way of recording yourself, there is no proof. Maybe you leave a few drops on the pillow where your mouth rested. Maybe there is a bruise on your wrist that you have no recollection of. Maybe you recall fighting dragons on the streets of San Fransisco to save a doll you had as a child. There is certainly evidence of what may have happened but you can't actually prove it. 

You just know that when you wake up - something has changed. Something is different now. You can't prove or explain it - it just is.