Ritual Movement

Call it obligation; call it habit; call it cellular memory or call it – my preference – ritual. This is movement that, despite what my mind is telling my body, my body presides. For example, I love long, leisurely, soaking baths – the kind where I read half a magazine and my skin turns pale & crinkly before I realize the water is tepid and my body is chilled. Baths give me a sense of well-being. I can be running late for an appointment – like 25 minutes to shower, fix my hair, apply a little make-up, dress-and-go late.  A bath is out-of-the-question; it takes way too much time. Well, that’s what my rational mind says. But darn it; if my body wants a bath it is relentless; my mind often can’t compete. I run the bath water while I select and lay out my clothes, jump in when the water reaches 4 or 5 inches, recline and submerge for a minute or two – and voila! My body is sated.

Likewise, each morning I walk my dog down a steep mountain trail, traverse a boulder-strewn creek, tramp through a rhododendron thicket and trek up an old carriage trail to an “L”, where we turn around and retrace our steps – about a half-hour in all. Like my bath predicament, I may have only 45 minutes before I have to be out the door for some appointment. If I do the whole hike, I have just 15 minutes left to shower (no choice with only 15 minutes), change and depart. So, at the beginning of the hike, I tell myself, “Today we only walk through the rhododendron – then we turn around.” No such luck! My body evidently depends on this 30 minute jaunt – and oh, what a stubborn body it is. For it simply keeps on truckin’. I have lost control. One leg proceeds the other and the other and the other... So, when we return, I  shower, dress, grab a banana and eat in the car – no big deal.

And so it is with my precious yoga practice. Sometimes, after a long strenuous day, my body and mind are fatigued. In truth, I’d be relieved if no one shows up for my 4:30 yoga class. I can go home, have a glass of wine, plop down on the couch and watch the news. Well… you know what’s coming.  Whether anyone shows up or not, I can’t resist a little stretching, a few lunges, a couple downward facing dogs and a plank for good measure. Before long, I’m into my 7^th salutation and going strong. Who says the brain rules the body? Who says the mind only resides in one’s head? That just isn’t my experience. Ritual is the mind’s apparatus for mental and emotional balance; movement is the body’s apparatus for rejuvenation and health. Ritual movement is the apex of both realms: the full moon in a cloudless sky, the scent of magnolia, the first warm breeze of spring. Ahhh...

Then again, I guess you could call it hedonism. And that feels perfectly fine to me too.