Yes, I am yet another middle-aged, middle class WASP-y woman who’s jumped on board the yoga bandwagon. Well, not jumped exactly. More like a long search for just the right time and place. The journey has been worth it. I’ll never be able to twist my body like a pretzel like some of my younger classmates, but what I’ve learned about breathing and posture and my own physical and psychic limits cannot be contained in words. The strength and assurance I’ve gained cannot be measured.
The first classes I took back in 2000 were at Powerkick (where my sons were taking karate lessons). The studio was roomy and the teacher and class were supportive, even though everyone was much more experienced than me. The time was awkward (on Sundays, wedged between a leisurely family breakfast and church), and I felt ever so slightly guilty for cramping everybody else’s style. When the teacher moved to a new studio, I didn’t.
Sometime in 2001, I started taking classes at Yoga World, located at that time in The Marketplace shopping center. I loved, loved, loved that space – high ceilings and wood floors in a sun-filled room with French doors opening onto a burbling fountain. Even when the downward dogs were kicking my butt, I felt privileged to be there. I took classes from practically every teacher on their staff, but I particularly liked Bridgette and Sasha. Again, the location changed. Actually, Yoga World now has two smaller studios, which frankly can feel cramped and are not as convenient for me to get to.
Last year, in one of those tricks of coincidence that almost seem like fate, I happened to look in the Long Beach Parks Department quarterly catalog of classes (Does anyone in the city not receive this nifty assortment of fun classes?) and was surprised to find that a yoga class was offered at Recreation Park, which had never been listed before. At the first class, Rosanne, the instructor, explained she usually teaches at Whaley Park, but was moved in the summer because of children’s programs. I loved cruising over to class on my bike and Rosanne’s obvious devotion to her yoga practice and care for her students had me hooked from the first class.
The first classes I took back in 2000 were at Powerkick (where my sons were taking karate lessons). The studio was roomy and the teacher and class were supportive, even though everyone was much more experienced than me. The time was awkward (on Sundays, wedged between a leisurely family breakfast and church), and I felt ever so slightly guilty for cramping everybody else’s style. When the teacher moved to a new studio, I didn’t.
Sometime in 2001, I started taking classes at Yoga World, located at that time in The Marketplace shopping center. I loved, loved, loved that space – high ceilings and wood floors in a sun-filled room with French doors opening onto a burbling fountain. Even when the downward dogs were kicking my butt, I felt privileged to be there. I took classes from practically every teacher on their staff, but I particularly liked Bridgette and Sasha. Again, the location changed. Actually, Yoga World now has two smaller studios, which frankly can feel cramped and are not as convenient for me to get to.
Last year, in one of those tricks of coincidence that almost seem like fate, I happened to look in the Long Beach Parks Department quarterly catalog of classes (Does anyone in the city not receive this nifty assortment of fun classes?) and was surprised to find that a yoga class was offered at Recreation Park, which had never been listed before. At the first class, Rosanne, the instructor, explained she usually teaches at Whaley Park, but was moved in the summer because of children’s programs. I loved cruising over to class on my bike and Rosanne’s obvious devotion to her yoga practice and care for her students had me hooked from the first class.
The class has been on hiatus for three weeks so I'm a little stiff and creaky. The body may not be willing, but the soul is raring to go. OMMMMM!
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