I’m No Longer A Yoga Virgin

I’m no longer a yoga virgin. On a recent trip to Los Cabos I saw a 7 AM yoga class on the schedule of the beautiful beach-front Marquis Hotel. On a whim I decided to take it. The next morning we all introduced ourselves as we walked together along the sandy shore, our early morning shadows stretched out behind us as we likewise stretched our muscles. I was nervous because the other participants were seasoned yoga practitioners - all lithe and limber young females whose male companions had slept in - while I was a novice and old enough to be their father.

The female yoga instructor was more comfortable in Spanish, and the girls were fluent in it, so I was at a disadvantage there. Still I gamely tried each pose, breathing when told, moving when directed. She realized I didn’t know anything - even Spanish - and graciously encouraged me and cautioned me in English, balancing “good” with “careful” throughout the lesson. I didn’t look as graceful as my fellow students, nor did I hold each pose as elegantly or as long, but I did feel good about the moves.

We spent an hour and a half at it. Our yoga mats were sprinkled with sand and sweat, our bodies pushed the physical limits as our minds were conditioned and steered to a higher plane. Finally, after a handstand I could not do because of the herniated disks in my neck, we were instructed to take the lotus position to contemplate and reflect on ourselves and the world around us. I liked the image she gave us. Sitting there on the beach, with the rhythm of the crashing surf  as a metronome for my breathing, the yoga instructor said slowly over the course of about ten minutes:

“Look out at the ocean. Notice the deep blue color. Follow it to the curve of the horizon. Now, close your eyes. Imagine the blue and the curve as a ball. Concentrate on the image. See stars above it, you see the earth - the earth with all the different peoples of the world on it - all the different peoples together. Visualize them living in harmony. Visualize peace. Imagine that all the world is at peace.

Live. . .  Breathe . . . . Know . . . .  Peace  . . . .

Exhausted, sweating, and soon to be sore, I lay on the mat after she said ”now open your eyes.” The shadows of my companions passed over me as they bounced on their respective ways, but one shadow stopped, and spoke. “Excuse me sir, would you like your massage now?” With amazing forethought, my kind benefactor, the reason for my trip, saw my name on the yoga schedule and arranged for a spa treatment right after. Next to my yoga mat a massage table was set up. It was the path to the relaxed muscles necessary for a full day of work. And, most importantly, it was a time I could again visualize peace.

Tourism Los Cabos
http://www.visitloscabos.travel

Marquis Los Cabos
http://www.marquisloscabos.com

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BIO - Richard Frisbie writes culinary travel articles, is a columnist for his local newspapers, and is a regular contributor to the many Hudson Valley, Catskill Mountain and other regional New York publications. Online, he writes frequent articles for EDGE Publications, GoNomad and Travel Lady, as well as Gather.

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