Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Stress and Amusement

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This time of year is generally known as one of higher levels of stress. Personally, I think it’s ironic because our social media is filled with gift-wrapped gratitude and snow-covered family portraits. Yet we all know that these cold, dark, and rainy days are filled with traffic jams, a never-ending need to empty and re-emptying the rain gutters (if we are lucky – I suppose), and some creative financing in order to fill the hearts of our loved ones with gifts under the tree. Furthermore, being the recipient of über generous tokens of appreciation only serve to further the stress-load when they cannot be reciprocated with equally bighearted gifts. It shouldn’t be this way, but it is.

I find that I am better off if I can find some moments of amusement and playfulness. Take this morning for example…

It’s another Wake-Up-Way-Too-Early-Wednesday. But no worries; I have prepared ahead by pre-loading the espresso machine with caffeine dose #1, laid out my yoga attire, and packed my work clothes before going to bed. However, after only two sips of my coffee, my body opted to reject my morning offering (I threw it up into the kitchen sink). After driving my son to work, I returned to bed in an attempt to make my body happy. Miraculously, I was able to provide it short segments of deep and REM sleep amid the sounds of the early risers in the neighborhood. A few hours later, and after a sweet yoga practice, I went to dress only to find a key undergarment was missing. I pondered my options for a few minutes, then choose one of them.

And while walking to my car, I contemplated sending out a tweet asking the following question:

When you discover you have forgotten your underwear, do you go commando OR put your sweaty panties back on and head to work?”

A few minutes later, I went back inside the yoga studio to retrieve my forgotten mat.

Capo-BEWARE-a

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When Capoeira first landed on the yoga studio schedule, I read the class description with interest and trepidation. Dance and martial arts would require some sort of hand-eye coordination of which I have a lifetime of deficiency.

Weeks later, after the 1st session, my yogi friends rolled out of the class filled with enthusiastic bliss. “You have GOT to try this class, Juls. We did CARTWHEELS!”

Cartwheels? Did they say “CARTWHEELS?” To say that I was intrigued is an understatement.

A week later, after tutoring and getting my son settled in back at home with plenty of nourishment to get him through the remainder of his homework, I set off to see for myself what this Capoeira was all about. I showed up with yoga mat in hand (just in case), my I-heard-we-do-cartwheels enthusiasm, and complete naivety for what I was about to experience.

Class started with a series of warm up dance-like “exercises (?)” to this beautiful Afro-Brazilian music. It felt tribal. And I could almost see a fire in the center of the room which we were encircling. I fought back my long-believed notion that I am uncoordinated and played in follow-the-leader like fashion.

Before long, we were head-over-heels with cartwheel, kicks, and tucks. I found a smidgen of rhythm and clung tight to it. I started up an quiet mantra in my head: I can do this. I CAN do this. I *CAN* do this….

And indeed I was doing it—albeit far from perfectly. Even when we were paired up to “do the dance,” I did okay. But, when the participants all entered into a circle for final part of Capoeira class, the words “martial arts” rushed back into my awareness. EEK!

I watched the un-choreographed free-play in the game of Capoeira and felt my fight or flight mechanism kick in. It was saying FLIGHT.

I thought, “Good lord, why didn’t I read the class description?” This was not a cartwheel class. It was not a dance class. It was Capoeira, an “Afro-Brazilian combination of dance and martial art.” *sigh*

My turn was up. And I could not very well take flight. I needed to face my opponent and play the game. We held hands, bowed, cart-wheeling into the center of the room and…
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