Yoga class...

I took one this past Saturday morning, although prior to heading there the intuition was strongly pulling me elsewhere, and toward the water, as if to bear witness to the moon still radiant in blue daylight, as if to appreciate the sun already warming up this southern of Wisconsin, where the tent called 'home' has been erected for a little more than five solar years.
Yet, to the yoga class I drove, and to this yoga studio I entered. A different world than the one I am used to. The teacher, a sort of adulated super star. The gathering, more social and networking-oriented than anything else. A pleasant crowd. An interesting teacher. The focus was on breathing, with emphasis on the proper rhythmic movement of the diaphragm, awareness of spinal alignment vis-a-vis the requirements of shifts in posture. Overall, it wasn't bad. I'd say it was good. None of that, commercialized yoga business that has been flourishing just about everywhere.
As for my own journey with yoga, the class made me think, made me consider... What is it I want? Where is it I am heading? Questions brought to the forefront of consciousness, bubbling upward and bursting with a pop. My shoulders tense, my breathing becomes defensive, because it worries me that I do not know the answers. Who am I? I ask. The writer, The yoga teacher, the traveler, the surfer, a Wisconsonite, a bit of everything, round curves rather that well defined corners to grab a hold of, say this is who I am, this is what I do, this is where I belong...
Meanwhile, life pulls and inspires the dreamer out of his comfort sphere towards the unknown, always towards the unknown, and so I dream, and so I err.
Be well, and if you happen to be erring, stop, take a moment, and come to know yourself.
Lost between shores, the tides deciding.