When I first started practicing yoga, every move was filled with uncertainty and an exercise in self-exploration. I remember taking a big breath in, as the class started off with three om’s, and patiently holding it until someone other than me started it off. Today, however, I am thrilled to be the first to make my voice heard. It makes coming to the mat all the more joyous.
Earlier this week, I received email regrets from the Boston Athletic Association (BAA). Like Starkist being picky about it’s tuna, the BAA is picky about who they are inviting to next year’s party at Hopkinton.
Well, I’m not rushing out to jump through the new fire lit hoops they’ve set out as the tougher qualification standards only to be on the invited list again. Some day, I may be happy to play that game, but not now.
As you know, I don’t do well with the “not good enough” message. I’d rather go where I’m wanted. The question is: Where is that?