Yoga and confidence

Once upon a time it was not at all unusual to find me singing along to the radio (or on my own) or whistling a happy tune.  As a matter of fact, I remember plaguing my poor teacher by demonstrating my whistling abilities while we walked from the gym, across the parking lot, and to the school.  I'm not sure whether that's the same teacher I invited to come to our house for a spaghetti dinner (yep, I liked learning and those who helped me to learn.)

For the past few weeks I've had Julie Andrews singing "I Have Confidence" in my head, but it felt more like a taunt than an anthem because I lost every ounce of confidence I gained last year, the Year of Karin.  Newspaper contest, triathlon, breakwall swim?  Gone, gone, and gone.  I can barely believe I'm the same person who accomplished those tasks. 

But I am the same person, and that stupid song hasn't left me alone; it's like the universe calling me back out of myself.

The universe, in the form of a Friend or two, has been whispering Yoga at me.  I've got a Friend who can now to headstands, and whose devotion to Yoga is inspiring.  Another friend conducts Yoga classes at Shore Cultural Center, and finally last night I made it to a class.

I went in to the class with huge reservations, particularly that there's only so much room to squish one's body, and I was pretty sure I'd never maneuver into the poses.  But trusting the instructor - her support and good humor - I was willing to give it a try.

The peacefulness reached my soul.  And since our room's windows faced the green leafy treetops (highways for squirrels and birds) rather than mirrors, and since I didn't tip over, I'm pretty sure that I accomplished at least a close approximation of the poses. 

I particularly liked the tree and the warrior, both of which are similar to exercises I used in weight training (way back when).  The memory of weight training, of encouragement of past coaches, and the realization that I was trying and doing began to reawaken my confidence.

I'm still afraid of injury and of being mocked, but I've got a start. And I've got the memory of what I can do. And I've got the desire to try and to do.