How Very Unfortunate

Dear New Client:

I'm very sorry that you changed your mind about keeping your appointment with me this afternoon.  Little do you know that you are the third new client in the past two weeks who has flaked-out on me just like this:  no notice or response to my calls.  Did you have an accident? Are you okay?  My gut tells me that you -- and the others -- are only suffering from cold feet.

Generally, I'm a deeply compassionate and understanding person.  But frankly, right now I'm just an angry person.  This morning I had to tell someone who's really having a hard time that no, I did not have any last-minute cancellations today.  That person would have been thrilled to take the spot you did not want.

I'm sorely tempted to start requiring a credit card number to reserve first appointments.  Would that have prompted a call from  you when you changed your mind?

Yes, I'm taking a deep breath.  Lots of them, in fact.

May we all be filled with loving-kindness.
May we be well.
May we be peaceful and at ease.
May we be happy.

Thank goodness for that.

Sincerely,
Lucy  Grace Yaldezian, CHT, CHC, TAT
A Higher Perspective

Something's Shifted for Sure

Since I've switched from 6 am to 9:30 am Bikram three times a week, my body is happier but my mind keeps going into judgment about the vast difference in the quality of practice between the two times.

The 6 am group is steady, consistent, supremely focused, aware and respectful of the concept of yoga.

The 9:30 group is all over the place.  This morning a woman walked in nearly 20 minutes late and planted herself in the front row.  Then she proceeded to fidget through the remainder of the class.

At first, I was really, really angry.  What nerve!  It's bad enough to come in so inexcusably late, but then why not take an inconspicuous spot in the back row?  And since she was in the very front, why was it so important to keep adjusting her top, her bottom, her hair ...

About half-way into the 90-minute practice, my attention was drawn to the woman on her left who was also in my direct line of vision.  If I was angry, she was furious.  We caught each other's eye a time or two and signaled our mutual disgust.  It felt good to have a companion in this unfortunate experience and I felt myself relax a little.

 Then, at one point, I noticed the Fidgeting Late Woman checking out her toes.  She continued to check out her toes as though that was the most compelling, fascinating activity ever invented.  I couldn't help it, I started to laugh.  I mean really laugh.  The Teeth-Gritting Woman glanced at me and kept gritting.  I stopped laughing but it was too late:  the anger was completely gone.  And so was my connection to the Teeth-Gritting Woman; we had lost the bond created by our wounds because I wasn't wounded anymore. 

I love yoga. 

Argh!

Obviously none of us in the 6 am Bikram class is working as hard as R. Otherwise, why would the rest of us be so silent? Especially during final savassana.

Breathe, Lucy, breathe.

It cracks me up when people say to me,"Oh, you must be so calm all the time with the work you do." Hah! Those people should have seen me stomping out of class this morning, seething with resentment and dripping with judgment.

I do recognize that R is a good teacher for me. I should be able to tune him out and just go about my business in total peace and serenity.

Well, it's not happening that way.