(Continuing on from my earlier post today about my total inability to control my emotions at the moment…)
I went to yoga this afternoon, only to discover that there was a new instructor for that class. This is usually enough to seriously disrupt my routine, as I like the usual instructor a lot, and I also like my routine a lot. Sudden, unexpected changes stress me out (if I were being uncharitable, I would call myself hide-bound).
This would have been fine, except that she started us off in a pose that was “good for your uterus and your ovaries” (the class was full of women). She told us how this pose would “help with any oddities of menstruation”.
(Anyone who guessed that I was in tears by this point (FIRST freakin’ pose!) in the class, five points.)
Then we moved on, but for most of the hour she kept getting us to “think about our wombs”. To “imagine the fullness in your uterus”. To “really ground yourself in the fullness of your womb”. I think this was supposed to make us more centred, more aware of ourselves as women, or something.
(Anyone who guessed that I then continued to cry for most of the class, five more points.)
I know it’s not really good yoga-speak to say this, but at the moment my womb and I aren’t in the best space. And, frankly, one of the reasons I go to yoga is so that I can get an hour where I DON’T have to think about my womb. Or my ovaries. Or the oddities of my menstrual cycle. Or any or all of the above.
I go to yoga so I can be blissfully unaware of what drags me down so often these days, even if that freedom only lasts from the first sun salutation until the final resting posture.
I go to yoga so I can cut out that part of me that causes me pain.
And yes, I know that one day I’m going to have to work towards acceptance, and unity, and loving all parts of my body.
But right now? Right now I just REALLY need a break.