Songwriters: Steven Wilson, Richard Barbieri, Colin Edwin, Gavin
Harrison
Original Release: The Incident
Year: 2009
Definitive Version: None
After I found Porcupine Tree
online, when I went to make my first purchase, I decided to go with not the
album from which I was listening to the music but their most recent—and until
further notice, potentially their last—album, this album. I bought it a little
more than a year ago and had it in the car while driving to and from yoga
class—shades of years ago, when all I had to listen to in the car were CDs.
Going to yoga, however, was
something of a more recent vintage. I say was, because I’ve more or less been
out of the practice for close to a year for reasons I’ll get into at a later
point.
That said, I want to get
back into it. For a Valentine’s Day present in 2007, Laurie bought us passes to
a series of classes called Intro to Yoga at a studio that she knew of and wanted
to check out. I had taken a yoga class exactly once before—in 2001 in L.A.
(another story to come). But I liked it and was game to give it another go.
The Intro classes were in
the evening, and I really liked the vibe, so Laurie and I started taking
regular classes on Saturday or Sunday. The Sunday class was a Level 1, which
was more my speed, but Laurie liked the Saturday afternoon class better. It was
a Level 1-2, which was a bit more than I could handle at first, but I did the
best I could, which is all yoga really is anyway: You do what you can, nothing
more. (And it doesn’t hurt the old motivation if the class has a hot babe or
two nearby.)
Eventually I came around to
Laurie’s way of thinking: I loved the Saturday class. It was held at 4 and went
to 5:30 or 5:45 or 6 depending on how the teacher felt, and it set up the rest
of the evening. I liked having something to do that was neither too early in
the day nor too late. We’d come home, jump in the shower, get dressed and go
out afterwards.
But better, I loved the
teacher. Paul had a great vibe, a good sense of humor and unlike every other
teacher I’ve had, he played no music during class. He was far more into the
meditative nature of yoga and listening to one’s self, and he had a great way
of speaking while leading us through the class. It was not unlike Bob Ross and
the Joy of Painting—you could just listen to him talk all day.
Best of all, while he worked
our butts off, he had an excellent flow to his positions, so you never felt
like you were straining anything. In time, my movements in his class became
more effortless, and I started being able to do a whole lot more.
And before long, it got so
that not only was I feeling better in general, but my body also responded in a
big way. When Laurie and I started yoga in 2007, I tipped the scales at
slightly above a beefy 205, even though I still was hitting the gym twice a
week. I’d like to tell you that it was all muscle, which is heavier, but my
stomach would tell you a different story. I never had been that heavy before,
and I didn’t like it.
Well, two years later, I was
down to 180 pounds. (I’m 183, give or take, now.) And I felt stronger than ever
before, particularly in my upper body, and my balance became really good. I now
can hold my breath for nearly a minute when 20 years ago, 25 seconds would have
been a struggle.
But seemingly like all good
things, this came to an end. In the fall of 2010, Paul stopped teaching the
Saturday class and a few months later left the studio altogether. (I took a
Tuesday morning class with him when I took a few days off in December 2010.)
He’s teaching at a different studio that’s even closer to where Laurie and I
live, which is good, but he’s still teaching only in the morning, which is not.
So Laurie and I have been on
a so-far fruitless search for a new teacher since. I still practice
occasionally on my own at home, but I need the routine and proper motivation to
keep me inspired. Something will pop up; we just need to keep looking.
No comments:
Post a Comment