Life jacket please

Today was not only the longest day of the year; it was my anniversary with the hot yoga world. This I know thanks to the wonders of modern technology and automated email. I've been practicing hot yoga for four years now. Ironically, today marked day 4 of the studio being closed for repair. I thought I would die to go three days without, and as it turns out, it was extended to 4. I wish I had closed down for repair.
I don't know what I would have done had the studio been business as usual this weekend. I go nearly every day, sometimes twice to keep my overall attendance at about 29 classes per month. I might be obsessive, addicted...both. That said, I was looking at 4 days, no yoga. It was kind of scary and wonderful to think about a forced break. (Well....there are other studios) What would I do with 4 whole days?
Somehow, I made it. And, as each day passed, I wondered how I've managed to go so frequently. Yoga is definitely the rock in my day. (You know the 'ol demonstration you've seen at some feel good meeting: If you have sand, water and rocks to squeeze in a container, you've got to start with the rocks and finish with the water in order for everything to fit.) Now, granted, there are people far busier than me who have a more difficult time squeezing it all in, but this is my blog. And this is my four days:
Saturday afternoon, somewhere around the time I would be in toe stand, someone said to me, "shouldn't you be in yoga right now?" She said this as we were hefting a very heavy box over our heads and onto a second story shelf in the barn, precariously balancing on a ladder and an old pool table. Saturday was a very big clean up day here at hoarders anonymous, and I can't imagine toodling off before the job was done. It was a very long day, a dirty day and a necessary day. Sunday, I continued the clean-up/purge in my own house, and realized we really don't use every muscle in yoga. (It's part of the dialogue; we're told that we've just used every muscle, every joint and tendon.) I felt some new ones, some underused ones on Sunday....which also was Father's Day. Though my Father is gone, and I haven't made anyone else a father, I still actually had a place to be. So, another afternoon rolled around where I looked at the clock and wondered how I would have made it to yoga that day.
By Monday, I'm kind of grumpy, missing my yoga and my community. But, as I'm shoving food in my face just before I would normally be doing a breathing exercise, I'm kind of okay with being home.
Which brings me to today. My anniversary. Once again, right around the time I'd normally be leaving for yoga, I had to acknowledge that I was not; I was down in the barn, this time attending to the horses. I had a very full day and wondered how I would have managed to do all I did, and still make it to yoga.
And, here's the thing...well, two things really. Here's the less important thing: I did get some hot yoga today. Who needs to heat a room when the sun is doing such a fine job? I took my mat to the back deck, set a timer for 90 minutes, and recited as much of the dialogue in my mind as I could. Oddly enough, no matter what posture I was in, I repeated "spread your arms out to the side like a 747 taking off." Is it because that's my least favorite posture? Just a thought.
More to the point, I have mixed feelings about these last four days. They kind of feel like a freight train hit me. It seems counter-intuitive to me. I had four whole days not punctuated by the time investment of going to yoga. I had visions of hunkering down and writing all the things I've been wanting to. I had an idea I'd visit one of those other studios. I thought I'd have endless time, and in retrospect it seems like I had less, not more.
I think I'll be rolling this around in my mind for a couple days. One thing I do know; I'm ready to go back. My body misses it. I miss the people. Well, most of them. I have a new appreciation for it though. I'm going to have to work out how it is that I seem to have more time when I go to yoga. And then, if I could just bottle that I'd share it with everyone.