On our first day, I was so enthralled by class at Jivamukti that I was bubbling over with positive energy and smiling as we moved through challenging asanas. Handstand, forearm balance, and headstand, all together? No problem. (Again, thank you extra red blood cells.) I also noticed the city vibe and absorbed that energy - the traffic noises from outside, the intensity of the people around me in class - and marveled at how no matter what, no matter where, strangers can come together on the mat for a unifying experience.
With classes offered almost every hour and an army of instructors at Jivamukti NYC, I was surprised to arrive for class the next day to discover the same person I took from the day before was teaching. What are the chances? I adored her class and the yummy adjustments she gave me, but will admit to feeling a bit antsy when she began with the same story, practically word for word. And the class sequence was the same as well. Why did this bother me, I wondered? I think it's because I love novelty so (in my NYC days I worked in cosmetics product development, which thrives on novelty), and because as a yoga teacher I feel like I'm copping out if I repeat the same thing twice. But that's my own personal issue; I did, however, teach Ashtanga, which is the same sequence, or at least a variation on the same theme. As I moved through the sequence for the second day in a row, I noticed that my body was responding to the repetition. It was finding more space to open up. The poses were sweeter, less of a shock; like my body was saying "oh yeah, I remember this, it's not so bad". Being the novelty addict that I am, I'm not likely to repeat the same practice too often. But I was pleased that I was able to feel the meaning of the alchemical precept
Through repetition, the magic will be forced to rise; fittingly, one of my favorite quotes in the Jivamukti book
The Art of Yoga. More irony to ponder: repetition was another change that did me good. Namaste.