Some days you just don’t feel like going.
Maybe you are still healing, or maybe you are just hurting, and you know you should go, but you just can’t. Or you don’t think you can.
Can you?
You know it will do you good; it always does, most days anyway. But not today, you say to yourself. Your self agrees, or it doesn’t put up much of an argument.
But it does make you think.
It’s only a mat; it’s only 90 minutes.
It sounds so simple, and still you ask yourself, why?
Why do I need to go to Yoga? Why do I need to get to class?
Why today, or why any day?
The answer is simple: sometimes you need to hear yourself breathe.
You need to hear yourself breathe, just to know you’re alive. Sometimes you need to hear other people breathing.
Living.
It reminds you why you are here, or why you are alive.
Why are you breathing?
Other times it serves as a reminder that you are not alone.
Other people too are breathing, living, struggling, and waiting: coping.
Trying.
The others ones, unlike you, are strong. In them you find strength. They set an example for you. They inspire you. They might not even know it. Hell, they might not even want to be here. But, like you, they came.
Like you, they didn’t want to come.
Like you, they resented the alarm, or sat up in bed and just stared at the clock. Or they listened to the weather report and questioned why and who, in their right mind, would bother?
Like you, their minds are caught up in the now or when, the here and then.
Like you, they wanted to put it off until tomorrow, but they (and you) know tomorrows never come… not in the Now.
Now, you can no longer rationalize. And for every posture there are two or three good excuses, and for every minute in the room you can think of ten more ways to spend an equal amount of time.
Yet somehow you ended up here, as did they.
You may have nothing in common with any of them — other than they are here, or they struggled to get there — but you made some sort of commitment, and they did too.
For that you are thankful.
Because today, or any day (or just that one day last week), you needed them there. You needed to hear them.
If they were breathing, so too were you. And if they were trying, why couldn’t you?
But then, or now, you didn’t need an answer; you are here anyway.
So are they.
And you didn’t want to be there, but the fact is, they are.
It reminds you.
It reminds you we all are human. We all need to try, to cope, and to push ourselves further. We all need a little inspiration and, on those days when you can’t find it in yourself, there’s probably somebody there to inspire you.
For some unknown reason, nothing else matters. You are here. So are they.
After that, everything else matters.
You are not alone.
Can’t you hear them breathing?

© j.g. lewis 2014

Sometimes I still struggle. 
Sometimes I need to be reminded why.