Before coming to India my husband was unsure about all this yoga stuff. I would do my yoga poses and meditation in the evenings after he went to bed because I knew he wasn't sure he felt comfortable with the yoga stuff. Is it exercise or is it religion? He is a very good man though because he never once asked me NOT to do it. Every now and then I would catch him laying in bed awake a night watching me out of the corner of his eye doing my practice and I could tell he was showing interest in what I was doing but he never once asked me to stop! God bless him. He knew what it meant to me.
Then we moved to India. Within the first few months of living here he would come home at night and say things like "everyone here does yoga" and "some of the guys I work with were talking about how relaxing it is" and "you know I did some yoga in college as part of a physical education class." I would nod my head and smile at him knowing what was coming. He was really trying to encourage himself that yoga for men was ok and that mixing yoga into his gym workout would be a good thing to do. My husband is well over 6 feet tall, dark skinned (Native American and German blood), dark haired, green eyes, with wide shoulders and strong arms. A manly man. He works out 5 days of the week.
Now, I am not a pragmatic sort of person about yoga. I eat meat. I drink wine often (well not like every day but like once a week). I admit I sometimes curse. I sometimes think negative thoughts about people (although I try not to). Yoga, or I should say the American version of yoga, can sometimes become too much for me. Some women behave like "see how evolved and enlightened I am" while they wear high dollar designer yoga clothes and use expansive trendy mats. Personally, I practice yoga for the exercise, to calm my mind, to push my body, to find my solitude. I do read a lot of yoga material (Rodney Yee, Rolf Gates, Yoga Journal, even sections of the Gita) but something in me finds sections of it a bit to 'cultish' for me. Something false lies there. Something hidden. I was raised Lutheran after all.
One day several weeks ago my husband asked me to show him some yoga moves. Afterwards he went right to sleep and slept like the dead that night. He woke up the next day and stated that he wanted to do yoga once a week with me in our house. I was thrilled. Now every Sunday evening we practice together. Candles, calming music, me helping him with his poses. It is lovely.
Last night was the best! We were lying there at the end of our practice in "Corpse Pose" where we were sinking into our mats. We had been in that position for about 5 minutes when my husband gently reaches over and takes my hand. Softly, calmly, lovingly. It made me want to cry. We were finally sharing this together in India. No more uncomfortable "what is this yoga all about ." He got it and it was beautiful.
Then we moved to India. Within the first few months of living here he would come home at night and say things like "everyone here does yoga" and "some of the guys I work with were talking about how relaxing it is" and "you know I did some yoga in college as part of a physical education class." I would nod my head and smile at him knowing what was coming. He was really trying to encourage himself that yoga for men was ok and that mixing yoga into his gym workout would be a good thing to do. My husband is well over 6 feet tall, dark skinned (Native American and German blood), dark haired, green eyes, with wide shoulders and strong arms. A manly man. He works out 5 days of the week.
Now, I am not a pragmatic sort of person about yoga. I eat meat. I drink wine often (well not like every day but like once a week). I admit I sometimes curse. I sometimes think negative thoughts about people (although I try not to). Yoga, or I should say the American version of yoga, can sometimes become too much for me. Some women behave like "see how evolved and enlightened I am" while they wear high dollar designer yoga clothes and use expansive trendy mats. Personally, I practice yoga for the exercise, to calm my mind, to push my body, to find my solitude. I do read a lot of yoga material (Rodney Yee, Rolf Gates, Yoga Journal, even sections of the Gita) but something in me finds sections of it a bit to 'cultish' for me. Something false lies there. Something hidden. I was raised Lutheran after all.
One day several weeks ago my husband asked me to show him some yoga moves. Afterwards he went right to sleep and slept like the dead that night. He woke up the next day and stated that he wanted to do yoga once a week with me in our house. I was thrilled. Now every Sunday evening we practice together. Candles, calming music, me helping him with his poses. It is lovely.
Last night was the best! We were lying there at the end of our practice in "Corpse Pose" where we were sinking into our mats. We had been in that position for about 5 minutes when my husband gently reaches over and takes my hand. Softly, calmly, lovingly. It made me want to cry. We were finally sharing this together in India. No more uncomfortable "what is this yoga all about ." He got it and it was beautiful.
What a wonderful moment. Made me tear up. Love you both. xx
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