…dotted by Meghann
About a year-and-a-half ago, I decided to give heated Power Yoga a try. It certainly didn’t hurt that Open Doors Yoga Studios had just opened a branch on Morrissey Boulevard in Neponset, offered classes for $12.00, and had a working parent-friendly schedule (A 7:30 PM class almost every weekday lets a working mom like me get my yoga on after a toddler’s bed and bath-time).
One class in and I was hooked. I mean HOOKED: totally and completely smitten with the sweat (I’m one of those people who feels like they’ve been most successful when they finish a work-out dripping), the all-encompassing focus, and the connection to myself that I felt on the mat.
These days, I try to get to at least 1-2 classes a week. I’ve been to classes at Open Doors led by a multitude of instructors with a variety of styles from quirky (try Robert’s class on Wednesday nights — who knew flowing to Pearl Jam would be such a popular choice?) to traditional, to ones with people who have since stopped offering their night classes (Karma Longtin? Susan Fogarty? Your are missed!) and everything in between.
One current instructor that I’m really drawn to is Amy O’Connor. I’ve actually only gotten to attend one class with her because she teaches on Wednesdays at 9:30 AM but the class I went to was wonderful and the parable that she read at the end of the 75 minute session has stuck with me for well over a month now. I thought I’d share it because I find myself coming back to it day after day when seeing the glass half full seems nearly impossible. I hope it does the same for you all:
An aging master grew tired of his apprentice complaining, and so, one morning, sent him for some salt. When the apprentice returned, the master instructed the unhappy young man to put a handful of salt in a glass of water and then to drink it. “How does it taste?” the master asked.
“Bitter” spit the apprentice.
The master chuckled and then asked the young man to take the same handful of salt and put it in the lake. The two walked in silence to the nearby lake, and once the apprentice swirled his handful of salt in the water, the old man said, “Now drink from the lake.”
As the water dripped down the young man’s chin, the master asked, “How does it taste?” “Fresh,” remarked the apprentice. “Do you taste the salt?” asked the master. “No,” said the young man.
At this, the master sat beside this serious young man who so reminded him of himself and took his hands, offering, “The pain of life is pure salt; no more, no less. The amount of pain in life remains the same, exactly the same. But the amount of bitterness we taste depends on the container we put the pain in.
So when you are in pain, the only thing you can do is to enlarge your sense of things …. stop being a glass. Become a lake.
–Mark Nepo (a Hindu parable)
60 Morrissey Boulevard (in the Marketplace at Morrissey Shopping Center)