The Calm after the Storm
The tattered remains of Hurricanes Irma and Maria hung in
the air around me in the form of low grey clouds and howling wind. In front of
me the Atlantic Ocean was a weird shade of cornflower blue, like the least used
Crayon from the box you had when you were a kid. The shore was mesmerizing and
menacing at the same time with thick white foam coming over the top and
pounding the sand. The noise of wind and sea were deafening. My hair whipped around
my face. These would be the conditions under which I would attempt yoga on the
soft sand beach.
Standing on the weathered wooden steps at the Boca Raton
Beach Resort, I was wondered if there would even be a class today. The resort
offered morning yoga classes on the beach for free to guests. Always looking
for unique outdoor spaces to practice yoga, I arrived on the beach at 8:30 AM,
a half hour early.
Standing above the sand on the grey weathered wooden steps
that led from the resort pool to the beach, I watched the waves churn in an
eerie slow motion. In the distance I could see people walking on the beach
heading north away from me.
“Hi! Are you here for the yoga class?” a woman shouted
behind me.
“Yes,” I shouted back.
Susan, the yoga teacher, retired to Florida six years ago
from Chicago because she couldn’t stand winter anymore. She was petite and tan
and had bobbed blonde/grey hair. With her pink tank top and black yoga pants
she looked like, well, a yoga teacher.
“See those red triangle ribbons on the sand?” she asked. I
had noticed them, several dotted the beach going up the coast. I thought the
yellow and orange cones and caution tape marked vegetation conservation areas
because they were near the beach grass line.
“Those are turtle nesting sites. The city puts those up to
keep people and dogs away.” She also said the turtles’ eggs hatch at night and
then the babies crawl to the ocean. The next day all anyone sees are the
fledglings’ flipper tracks across the sand disappearing into the water.
As we chatted she glanced at her watch. Susan said we would
wait two more minutes to see if anyone else comes. I’d rather spend the morning
standing on this beautiful pier chatting with this new interesting person in
the strange weather, but we were here to do yoga so it was time to move.
Susan had an armful of towels that she set on some stacked
beach chairs. She handed me three of them and said to lay two towels side by
side and put the third one perpendicular across the top.
We began class in Prayer Mudra, hand pressed together next
to the heart, breathing and listening to the waves. We twisted to the left and
to the right and raised our arms above our heads. From there it was time to
stand up.
As we moved through sun salutations she often got up from
her towels to make adjustments and applying gentle pressure on my limbs and
back to help me get just a bit more out of each stretch. I normally don’t like
strangers touching me, but her adjustments were so helpful. As I did a seated
twist, Ardha Matsyendrasana, Susan casually walked over, tapped the bottom of
my straight leg foot and said to“engage” my toes. Growing up as a dancer, I was
taught from a very young age to always point my toes. Yoga is the opposite.
Often when I take a yoga class, the instructor will ask “where my dancers at?”
meaning she’s looking for the people pointing their toes. I wasn’t technically
pointing my straight leg toes but had allowed the foot to go limp. Upon her
request I pointed my toes up to the sky. The change in my muscles was
immediate. All these years I had just let my foot fall to the floor. I realize
now that was cheating. Just the simple move of pointing my toes up to the sky
engages all the muscles in my body, not just the ones doing the twist. It was
awakening. I have continued to “engage” my toes to this day.
Done with salutations, Susan asked if I want to do some
balancing poses in this wind. “Sure, why not,” I shout as the wind blows sand
in my face. The sun had finally risen above the storm clouds and focused bright
heat onto us. We start with tree pose, however, the wind pushes both of us to
the point we had to lean forward toward the ocean just to stay straight. Challenging,
but not impossible. We then leaned forward into Warrior III, Virabhadrasana
III. From there we moved to the earth and worked on our core on top of the
towels. Grains of sand were sticking to my sweaty arms and legs.
Finally Susan said to lay back in Shivasana. My favorite,
the part where I forget where I am and what I’m doing. Susan said she had some scented oil and asked
if I would like some. I accepted and she opened a crinkly plastic bag. Soon the
soothing scent of apples and cinnamon floated into my nose.
After Shivansana we breathed Ohm three times to the ocean.
You are supposed to Ohm with your eyes closed, but the view was too spectacular
to ignore.
With class officially over I helped Susan carry the towels
back to the hotel pool. She told me the oil she uses is only available online
and that it is so concentrated she has to dilute with water to tone it down.
Considering we were outside with the wind blowing and I could smell it from
three feet away gives you a sense of its power.
Heading back to the Boca Raton Resort I was sandy, salty and
slightly sweaty. My hair was so windblown it was a matted mess. I put on a hat
before going inside. What’s that saying? “Sandy hair, don’t care.” I enjoyed a breakfast
sandwich and a latte at the hotel café shortly after. I felt like I’d really
accomplished something, not quite sure what, and it wasn’t even noon yet. It
was great feeling to have and I need to take more yoga classes so I can feel
this way more often. The calm after the storm is best feeling one can
have. Namaste.
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