Lie lie lie

All sunsets, all the time.

I taught my first yoga class today. I've been working on a certification and finally passed the written test. Today I just had one student, a guinea pig. It made me realize how much I had to work on, and how difficult it is to explain body movements with language. The experience also brought me to tears, just because it was so amazing to have given someone else the gift that has meant so much to me these last few years. Even just an hour

Yoga is one of those things I have difficulty being honest about. I'm not sure if it's because of the body-image issues that still haunt me, obsessively, like little over-my-shoulder demons. Or because it feels so profoundly intimate, in a way that little else does--this union of body and spirit.

I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, sometimes. Not in this life, but on this site. I am blogging for Lent, which is really weird. Someone said: so you gave up not blogging? I know it's weird. It's weird being so public with my dreams, desires, goals, thoughts. What's the point? A lot of bloggers say that maybe random posts will somehow help other people. Maybe. Or maybe I'm just full of hot air I like to blow around.

I'm not quitting. I watched a mini-documentary about the Appalachian Trail last night, and it reminded me of all of those hiking feelings. What's beautiful about the trail is the commitment you make to it, to moving one foot in front of the other, to traveling through time and space to a certain destination. The trail is just a promise you make to yourself. You say: I am choosing to follow these white blazes to where they end.

So I follow these posts towards Easter. I'm not sure what the point is. But I take one step, and then another. Today it's yoga--yesterday, childhood. I'll follow the blazes.