prism spectrum
Much can be said about Friday: the end of the work week, the beginning of the weekend, FriYay, TGIF, weekend eve, date night, etc. I mean, poor Friday that society places all this energy on anticipating its arrival. It can't always deliver. Inevitably the day will fail us only because of the outlandish expectations we set for the day.
I don't remember when I decided to change my perception of the week. Honestly. And I don't exactly remember how or who or what caused the shift, the epiphany. I may have mentioned this in a previous post, but I do not start my week on Mondays. No. I start my week each Sunday (no not because the calendar is set up like that), but because I start each week in community worshipping God. I have been a faith person all my life. I have grown, I have questioned, and I have learned and will continue to learn in my relationship with God. Therefore, my world and routines revolve around that, my relationship with Him which I believe transfers over into my relationship with others.
So, on Friday afternoon I paused Mr. Robot (Season two episode four...a computer hacker with schizophrenia who partners up with other hackers to take down the economic chiefs who line their pockets...uh-may-zing directing and plot line), put Norah in her crate, and stepped outside to head to the 4:30 restorative class. Goodness it was hot.
Upon arriving, the parking lot is extremely full. I am greeted by the kind eyes of the instructor as she smiles while maintaining the current transaction with the gentlemen in front of her. I set my things into a cubby (yes as usual, routine people), Starbucks tumbler on the top shelf, and quietly step into the studio to get a navy blue mat and claim a spot. My favorite spot is available, especially since we are using a wall today. Spots don't really matter, but my OCD won't allow me to not have a favorite. I unroll the mat next to the stand that houses all our props; it's the perfect little corner but not a corner because you have open space in front of the shelves; however, since we are using wall space, no one can set up next to me because they will be in front of it instead of a wall. A lot, I am aware.
Once the mat is staged and props are laid out, I tip-toe back into the opening to fill my tumbler with water. Now she is free. I check my phone and check in at the studio before turning it on silent and do not disturb. Realizing the instructor is in a colorful pair of yoga pants, a white tank top with pops of color and a gorgeous multicolored tassel necklace, I am transported back to last week when she complimented my colorful attire and I criticized the over abundance of greys that are worn. To which she agreed, then examined herself and realized she was in fact in black and white.
10 minutes later as we are starting class I open my eyes from my resting pose to see our class has gotten equally as full. Over a dozen yogis sat in the studio ready to get our zen on this Friday. It is the fullest I have seen a Friday restorative class, and even a yogi mentioned that to the nurturing instructor on the way out afterward.
Strapping up my sandals after an incredible class, I comment on her colorful outfit.
"Yes I was thinking about it earlier and chose to wear more colors instead of my black and white."
With the full class today I recognized how powerful our meditative fellowship truly is. We are each there for our own reason, yet we are simultaneously going through the same movements in order to achieve something different and unique to each one of us.
The world is full of negatives, the grey scale that many people get focused on and loose sight of the color that is around us. We must live in color not just see the colors.