For the first time in I-don’t-even-want-to-admit how long, I found myself on my mat tonight.  I’d been meaning to get back into my Tuesday yoga ritual since January, but I hit a few road bumps.  And yes, I realize that most road bumps are navigable, it all just depends on one’s determination ~ but I’m going to use the excuse anyway.

I’ve taken my fair share of yoga classes, and as I may have mentioned, I found a teacher at my old studio who just made sense to me.  I rarely, if ever, missed her class.  Unfortunately, the yoga studio closed at the beginning of December and for a while, my teacher didn’t have a regular class.  But now, not only does she have one, but I’ve finally gotten my booty in order to attend.

It was blissful.  I mean that ~ even though my body feels like jelly right now, and I had a sad moment of truth about ten minutes into class when I knew that I might not be completely out of shape, but I’m completely out of yoga shape.

Appropriately (and timely) enough, meditation was about joy.  The opening quote was from August Strindberg (ah, flash backs to college Drama Lit classes, and “Miss Julie”) …

People are constantly clamoring for the joy of life.  As for me, I find the joy of life in the hard and cruel battle of life – to learn something is a joy to me. 

Let me tell you, there are many ways to find meaning in that quote.  As class began, our teacher reminded us that often, we get bogged down in life, and we forget to find the joy.  We instead focus on the endless repetitive parts of our day that wear on us.  Instead, we should make an effort to find the joy.  Find the joy in class, find the joy in folding socks, etc.   At one point, another quote included the phrase “cause-less joy” which for me was the essence of what she was saying. Find the joy, feel the joy, for no reason other than joy.

As I struggled through class, I could think of a lot of things not to be joyful about.  My shaking legs, my inability to do basic things that back in the fall felt like second nature, my frustration at my numb legs and feet …. The list could go on.  And then I re-focused on what I could be joyful about.  And there were just as many — if not more.  I was joyful to be on the mat again, even if things were challenging.  I was joyful to have the ability to still be active, even after losing feeling in my lower limbs in late December.  I felt joyful that I wasn’t allowing MS to define me, I was defining myself.  I was joyful to be back in my teacher’s class, and to be inspired by her thoughts and guidance.  I felt joyful that I’d made the effort to be there, even though new situations usually terrify me and leave me paralyzed in inaction.  I’ve grown up a lot over the past few years ~ part of it is adult-hood, part of it is John, and a lot of it is me finding my balance and creating my own stability and support system.  I was tremendously joyful about that … in fact, I still am.

And even now, snuggled on the couch with my man and my Lucy, I can feel joy.  And I can’t quite define it, or qualify it.  It’s just there.  And that’s pretty cool.