Once a year in Austin, the yoga community hosts a free day of yoga.

I have a regular practice of my own, but I like to use the free day to try out a new space, style or teacher. Twenty-some studios participate — most of which I’ve never been to — and I figure what better way to close the labor day weekend than a little union (of body, mind and spirit) on the mat? 

So yesterday, I gathered up my girls and headed off to Kula Yoga where, lo and behold, children and adult classes were being offered at the same time. Win-win. And did I mention they were free?!?

In their studio, the girls roared like lions, fell like rain and turned their downward dogs into a tunnel.

In mine, we went through an hour of very slow and attentive hatha.

Now, I gotta tell you, slow and attentive is not necessarily my style.

I regularly practice Astanga, which requires presence and attention but also, often, blood, sweat and tears.
Which is good because it’s partially that hard work that keeps me present and attentive.

Straight-forward, silent meditation just about kills me.

I often say that my yoga practice has not made a peaceful guru of me — it’s just prevented me from being a complete depressive-neurotic, and driving myself and my family around the bend. True enlightenment’s still a long way off.

So yesterday, I found myself in the midst of slow and attentive, and my first reaction was to speed it up and roll my eyes.
I wanted to Move. Sweat. Transcend.
Afterall, I’d paid for this class.
Oh, wait.
No, I hadn’t.

OK. So.
Slow and attentive.
In I went.

A long series of spine rolling postures took me through a meditation on New Orleans and how those levees would hold and streets would dry and houses would stand in the face of Gustav.

During the forward bends, laying one half of my body along the other, I felt the relief and tenderness I’d been yearning for since the night before when I ran Nike’s Human Race through the hilly streets of Austin in 96 degree heat. And believe me, I use the word "ran" rather generously. It was bru.tal.

My mind was clear during the sun salutations, and my body was on automatic.
I was pretty much all breath.

As we twisted, I began to free-associate!

And by the time we were on our backs for savasana, I was in the ultimate open dream state.

And you know what my first thought was, at the end?

That it wrapped up a little too quickly.
Seriously.
I wanted to slow it down.
I wanted to stay immersed in what I’d been avoiding 55 minutes earlier.

Sound familiar?

Namaste.