Groovin’

I always assumed that being “in a groove” came from the days of vinyl record albums when your needle needed to stay in the groove in order to get the music out. (This will date me, but I did tape pennies to the needle arm in order to keep it from skipping.)

Now, I find out – because I love Google – that “groove” is from Middle English and has evolved from “grove” or “groeve” which means a deep pit. (See, and you thought you weren’t going to learn anything from me today.)

So, being in the groove would seem to be a very bad thing.

A groove is also what baseball calls the juicy middle of the strike zone.  Groove one in there, Mr. Hanrahan. Just watch … click here.

That kind of groove is great for a hitter.  For a pitcher? Not so great.

Lots of ballplayers complained last week that they weren’t “in the groove.”  The ups-and-downs of Opening (Day) Week … day game/off day/night game/day game/night game … threw players out of their rhythm.

The first week of the season is sort of the weirdo week of a very long baseball season anyway.

It seems to be so important, and yet no one seems to be in the groove.  The games played in April are important, but aren’t really any more important than the games that will come next week, next month, or the month after that, or the month … oh, you get the idea.

Opening Day games sell out in the middle of the week.  Everyone wants to go, even when the weather is brisk.  An insanely chilly 38 degrees in Chicago for instance.  

(One of many things that makes baseball far superior to football is its devotion to being a warm-weather sport.  There is no place for snow on a baseball diamond. Well, now that J.T. Snow is retired anyway.)

Casual fans go for the hotdogs and beer, the ambience, and to say they’re going to Opening Day, which never seems to lose its nostalgia and luster.

Many just like an excuse to take a half-day at work, and really, who can blame them? Celebrities throw out the first pitches. The best pitchers in the game face off.

And, all the team Mascots are freshly laundered and smell like clean fluffy muppets, weeks away from the grimey, sweaty, mustard stained fuzz balls of mid-summer.

Dedicated fans and sports pundits wrestle with a scant handful of stats from a scant handful of games, but are still ready to make Playoff and World Series predictions, even though there are 156 games left to play.

Some players start off crazy-hot.  Homerun shmoosher Chris Davis, I’m looking at you.  And, you know it can’t last – won’t last – but you try to envision it anyway.  At one point last week, the Orioles’ Chris Davis was on pace to hit 162 homeruns this season.

(The only point to this blog post, really, was getting to say “the Orioles’ Chris Davis was on pace to hit 162 home runs this season.”  You can stop reading now if you want.)

Some players have very, very bad days that skew statistics in most awful ways.

When you’ve played a week and still are batting .000, or are a pitcher with an earned run average of 20+ runs a game, you know you’re definitely not in your groove. (Yet.)

We all have grooves.  We get in them.  We lose them.  We revel in them while we have them, pine for them when they’re gone.  Sometimes we don’t even know we are in a groove until we’ve fallen out and things start going wrong.

Every time I step on my Yoga mat, I know, probably within 30 seconds, whether I’m in my groove or not.   It’s easy to practice Yoga when you’re in your groove.  It is infinitely more important to push through your Yoga when you are not.

I guess that’s good advice for all grooves.

Grooves are fleeting.

Which is why it’s too early to give the Orioles’ Chris Davis the MVP trophy and the Giants’ Barry Zito (2-0, ERA 0.00 in 14 innings) the Cy Young Award (even though I’m a-ok with either).

And, it’s also too early to give up on your team just because they haven’t found a groove yet.  (Unless you’re a Miami Marlins fan, in which case the team owners owe you an apology.)

This is the FOURTH complete blog post that I’ve drafted in the past week and the only one that will see the light of day (true confession: I’ve written that on all the discarded drafts too, so there’s no telling if this one will even make it to the Editor/Husband “here, have a look” stage).

So, clearly, I’m not in my blog groove.  But, I’m still happy that baseball season is here.  And, I’m happy to keep unrolling my Yoga mat because I know there’s a groove hiding in there somewhere.

Not in your groove today?

Here, try this … it’s a guilty pleasure.  “Let the Groove Get In” … Justin Timberlake … definitely worth a spin.  Click here

Justin Timberlake

Bears Don’t Hibernate. Neither Does Baseball.

My husband informs me that bears in Virginia do not hibernate in Winter.  He works at the Wildlife Center of Virginia, so he oughta know. 

It’s a sad day when bears let you down.

I have relied on the wisdom of hibernating bears when encouraging my Yoga students to quiet their practice in winter and in honoring my own circadian life rhythms. 

Bears hibernate in winter, I figured, because they are smarter than we are.  They know the value of rest.  They know that cold, dark winter days demand that they slow down and refuel.  These resting bears became a powerful role model for how we all should care for ourselves in winter … carbo-pack and hibernate.

Now, I find out that this hibernation thing is a big bear hoax.

This bear cub was in the Wildlife Center of Virginia's care. Wide awake ... no hibernating for him.

This bear cub was in the Wildlife Center of Virginia’s care in 2012.  Wide awake. Thanks to WCV for this photo.

As long as Virginia bears find the weather comfortable and ample trash cans to paw through, they’ll just amble through their winter like the rest of us.  Still, they hunker down in ugly weather.  So, while they may not hibernate, they do know the value of slowing down. So, hibernation aside, I guess they’re still smarter than we humans.

I was looking forward to a bit of baseball hibernation this winter. 

162 games is a long regular season.  It’s a reliable, irrefutable fact.  Eighty-two basketball games in an NBA season.  Sixteen NFL games a season.  These are, apparently, games for the short-winded and the short-attention spanned.   

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“Let’s All Go To The Lobby”

Lobby2

Do you remember how they used to have intermissions when you went to the movies?

Yeh, me neither. But, I’m told they did.

What a brilliant idea!

And, what a wonderful way to spend an intermission – head out to the lobby for something popcorn-y or chocolate-y or chewy or sweet.

Why can’t I get daily intermissions like that?

Don’t we all need a break in our day? Don’t we all need to head out to the lobby for a treat?

Here’s where sports excel. Extremely civilized break time.

Baseball’s Seventh-Inning Stretch … sure, a bit paltry. But, a nice idea. Love “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” (almost as much as I love the “Let’s All Go To The Lobby” jingle). 

But … here’s a random aside, as long as we’re talking baseball.

I may bleed Orange & Black for the Orioles, but I can’t think of a more miserable way of spending my seventh-inning stretch – my delicious break time – then standing around while they play “Thank God I’m a Country Boy”. (I am, for the record, neither “country” nor “boy”, so I’m not sure why they insist I sing it at every game.) 

And, while we’re on the topic of baseball’s seventh-inning stretch, rumor is that the Yankees include a long, ponderous version of “God Bless America” during their stretch just to make the opposing pitcher sit and wait a little longer. I’d like this a lot better if the Orioles had thought of it first.   

Anyway, I hope your team has a better stretch time (and I invite you to tell me all about it in the comments).

Half-time at basketball and football games are ok, but still a bit chintzy.

Hockey does all right. Two luxuriously generous breaks between periods, and nothing to do but watch the Zamboni slide around, suck up the blood, and smooth up the ice. Very Zen.   

So, anyway, I wrote up my to-do list for this past weekend. The stupid thing was three pages long. THREE pages (double-spaced, but still!). That list didn’t even mention Christmas and all the additional things that are expected of one during this “peaceful” season. So, not only did I not decorate, or write cards, or wish anyone “Merry Christmas” … I didn’t even have time to put those tasks on my list.

Needless to say, I got very little on the list accomplished. So, I’m far behind, tired, and yes, a little annoyed by doing too much and achieving too little.

And, that’s what brings me back to the need for daily intermissions.

Yoga is great in that respect. We sit and breathe. Think of it like sitting and watching the Zamboni slide around (but without any hockey bloodshed). 

Sit. Breathe. 

That’s it.

That’s the daily intermission. One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Whatever you got.

Breath goes in. Breath goes out.

You can try it now. It’s pretty easy.

Or, you can take the next 39 seconds and watch this video and one of the greatest songs of all time … and, yeh, go get yourself a treat. You deserve it.

Oh, and by the way, writing something for you WAS on my “to-do” list this weekend. I’m a day late, but I’m checking it off the list anyway.

Breath goes in. Breath goes out. Breath goes in. Breath goes out.

Lobby4

Yoga vs. Zumba … Baseball vs. Football

I’ve had a few Yoga students leave me for Zumba, the Salsa-Aerobic workout.

I admit it. It hurt my feelings.

What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with Yoga? Why go? Stay. Stay.

I think that Yoga vs. Zumba is similar to my feelings about Baseball vs. Football.

Yoga is … Serene … Mindful … Toned … Disciplined … Careful … Graceful … Strong. Yoga is bathed in a long, rich, and often-quirky history.

Zumba is a nice work-out to some sassy music, but that’s it as far as I can tell.

(But, then I’m biased. You’ll have to check out the Zumba Girl’s blog — Football, Zumba, Life … (and she)? —  to get the other side.)

Baseball … Football … same thing.

I see baseball as this graceful game of strategy, and mindfulness, and strength, and focus. A game that treasures its own long, rich, and often-quirky history.

Football has some strategy yes, but isn’t the point really to just smoosh the other guy a little harder than he just smooshed you? (And, history is often lost, except for the occasional throwback uniform like this cute little Steelers number last Sunday … click here.)

As a massage therapist, I can tell you that I’ve had to work my way through a good number of Zumba injuries in my clients over the years. Yoga, a few, yes, not many. Likewise, I’ve got a few clients who still suffer from aches and pains from long-ago (sometimes decades-old) football collisions. Again, baseball? Ok, a few.

In an earlier post, I explained why I boycotted baseball (and even my beloved Orioles) for several seasons … disillusioned by the widespread use of PEDs (performance-enhancing drugs). I’m back now, although I know that, sadly, the drugs are still there.

Now, I am boycotting football and have been for the past couple seasons. (Sorry, beloved 49ers.) The distressing violence of the game, the ignorance over the long-term damage of head-to-head collisions and concussions, finally made it unbearable to watch.

But, I know I’m the minority.

The World Series hit a televised record low this year.

Really? You all missed Sergio Romo … Barry Zito … Pablo Sandoval! It was good (unless you’re a Detroit fan, then, not so much). And, you missed the free Taco Bell tacos for America … awarded when the Giants’ Angel Pagan stole a base. (I also missed it, because there’s no Taco Bell nearby).

Today on National Public Radio, Frank Deford discussed the decline of Baseball, the rise of Football. (Sadly, no discussion of Yoga vs. Zumba.)

Here it is. He’s much more eloquent than me. Hope you listen!

NPR: The American Pastime Fades In Popularity

What’s wrong with Baseball? Why go? Stay. Stay. Just 111 days until pitchers & catchers report.

“Cricket. Cricket. Cricket.”

More reflections from my “Day with the Dalai Lama”

While His Holiness the Dalai Lama refreshes mind, body, and spirit with the nightly “good sleep” he recommends for all of us, he has a friend in India who, instead, watches television well into the night.

As His Holiness impresses on us how healing, revitalizing, and important a good night’s sleep is, he widens his eyes and laughs and laughs as he describes his friend who enjoys a good cricket match on TV.

“I prefer to sleep, not look at cricket,” the Dalai Lama says. “He can watch cricket all night.”

“Cricket. Cricket. Cricket.”

An average cricket match, by the way, can run about six hours a day – with matches lasting three to five days.  Those lengthy cricket matches are known for their utterly civilized breaks and tea times. No cheap 7th-inning stretch for these fellas.

By comparison, the average baseball game in America runs about three hours (unless you are the Baltimore Orioles, in which case, you could very well go on for 12 or 14 or 18 innings … and rival cricket hours, except no tea time.)

So, I’m wondering … how did His Holiness know that I watch way too much baseball?

Does he know that some games this season kept me up well past midnight?

Does he know that last Sunday’s hours-long rain delay in Baltimore meant I slogged through the next day with less than three hours sleep?

Does he know that a season of baseball is 162 games? That the Orioles (and your favorite team) will play some 500 hours a year (even more if they go to the post-season)? That’s a lot of baseball.

His Holiness doesn’t know my deep dark baseball-watching secret. Well, if he reads this blog, I guess he does now. But, I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping, not blogging.

Oh, sure maybe you don’t watch baseball (or cricket). But, maybe you have your own kind of baseball that keeps you up … reading, or knitting, or worrying, or work, or … reading blogs. 

I think many of us have our own cricket.

Many of my massage clients come in to their appointments tired. They tell me they might fall asleep on the table. Some tell me that the little nap they catch during their session is the best sleep they’ve gotten in awhile.

Some of my Yoga students fall asleep in class during relaxation. They drop right off. And, snore.

We are a sleep-deprived culture. And, we all know it. And, yet, many of us don’t make the changes we need to improve our sleep. (And, by “many of us,” I, of course, mean me … and  maybe some of you, but mostly me.)

So how much sleep is enough? “Eight, nine hours, I think, is good for health,” the Dalai Lama says. Ayurveda and Yoga, which call adequate sleep absolutely essential to healing, suggest seven or eight. Basically, everybody agrees that somewhere between six and nine would be great. My cat Stevie highly recommends 18.

Writing this has made me tired.

Oh, wait, Giants-Cardinals game is about to start.

I’ll sleep in November.

Stevie takes the Dalai Lama’s good sleep advice to heart.

Read Part One of my “Day With The Dalai Lama” … click here.

“I Feel Very Happy.”

When the Dalai Lama stands before you and says, “I feel very happy,” you believe him.  And, you wonder, why, oh why, can’t I capture just a bit of that simple, sweet happiness? A completely pure contentment that is based on nothing more than, well, being happy.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama reminds you that happiness doesn’t come from acquiring stuff – either material things, or relationships, or experiences. It just comes from the belief that being happy is, basically, the right thing to do.

Being a good, decent, compassionate person is the key to inner peace … and happiness.

Simple.

Then he smiles slyly at you. Because he knows it’s not nearly as easy as it sounds. But, he smiles because he believes that you might at least give it a try.

The Dalai Lama was in Charlottesville, Virginia today – just an hour or so away from us. He spoke at two interesting and inspiring events and we got to go to both. I guess you could say I hung out with the Dalai Lama today. How cool is that?

When you’re in the presence of such a loving and genuine spiritual leader, you can’t help but feel blessed to be in the same space.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one thinking – oh, hey! Did you see that, did you?? He looked right at me and blessed me … me … me.  I know he did. I know it. He picked me out of this crowded pavilion, held my eyes, and smiled. 

Did he look right at me? If I was sure he had, you can bet I would have mentioned it much earlier. Doesn’t matter, though. I felt the loving kindness of his presence. We all did, I think.

It’s the sign of a blessed person who can convey that sense of intimacy and kindness in such a crowded and anonymous place.

The Dalai Lama requests that he not be photographed during his events. I honored that request. His empty chair, however, didn’t mind.

I took lots of notes … I’ll share more soon.

But, I’ll pick out just one message from his talks for now. And, because I have learned the lesson of kindness, compassion, and fairness from His Holiness today, I’ll also let my Husband/Editor choose his favorite lesson, too.

From Me: “A healthy mind is an important factor for a healthy body.” 

It is our state of mind – our peace of mind – that cultivates inner peace and happiness. And, a healthy mind, nourished by happiness and mindfulness, can bring physical health as well. This is such a valuable reminder. A negative attitude can bring illness – even modern science has proven this connection.   A positive attitude can heal.

From My Husband: His Holiness was asked how he maintains his good health at age 77 while keeping a very full, busy travel and event schedule. His Holiness rested his cheek against his hands and closed his eyes. “Good sleep,” he said.

So the message from His Holiness the Dalai Lama that I share with you today is this – stay positive, get good rest.

Simple.

P.S. Just for the record … I did not – did NOT – check the score of the Giants-Reds game until His Holiness had left the stage and the pavilion had begun to clear. But, goodness … Grand Slam, Buster Posey!

P.S.S. That thing about getting good sleep? Definitely. As soon as these late ballgames are over. Promise.

 

In Part 2 of “My Day With The Dalai Lama” report, His Holiness exposes my baseball-watching habits, recommends some “good sleep,” and inspires my cat Stevie. Click here.

“That Ball’s Gone, By The Way”

Baseball doesn’t change much. The rules you learn in Little League are pretty much the ones that will get you to – and keep you in – the Big Leagues. And, one of the most important rules is this: Keep Your Eyes On The Ball.

Whether you’re batting, or fielding, or even if you’re just watching a game.  In Yoga, this concentrated, focused gaze is called Drishti.

So, the Orioles won last night, 1-0, over the Tampa Bay Rays, thanks to a Homeric homer by RF Chris Davis.  (He’s homered in six straight games, an O’s record.)

Use your Drishti … Watch it here.

Post-game attention quickly shifted to New York where the Red Sox led the Yankees going into the 9th. A Red Sox win would be good news for the O’s who still don’t know where their post-season game will be or whom they will play.

But, the comfy Red Sox lead evaporated as the Yankees rallied in the bottom of the 9th.

The Oriole fans on Twitter would have been hand-wringing, if they weren’t madly tweeting their anguish. (What I learned reading Twitter last night: You can fit a lot of creative curse words into 140 characters.)

Meanwhile, back at The Trop in Tampa … Orioles’ hero Chris Davis was being interviewed by MASN broadcaster Jim Hunter, while the Yankees game played on a TV in the background.

Chris took his Little League training to heart – he kept his eyes on the ball over at Yankee Stadium, all the while giving a nice, chatty interview. The best part – and why I love it and am sharing it – comes when, not missing a beat, he quickly and nonchalantly calls the homerun that ties the game for the Yankees, and then goes right back to the interview.

It’s around the 1:48 mark. Watch it here.

No anguish from Chris. Instead, he reminds us that that there’s no hand-wringing required when an exciting play is unfolding.

The Yankees won, by the way. Making tonight’s games even more important for the O’s. Keep your eyes on the ball.

Cheaters Never Prosper (except when they do)

Et tú, Melky?

In 2005, I fell out of love with baseball.  That was the year that Rafael Palmeiro tested positive for anabolic steroids after swearing – under oath – that he never used them.

I was probably more betrayed by the lying, than by whatever it is he actually did or took.   And, so I began a complete baseball boycott that lasted five seasons.

Here’s what Palmeiro said to Congress – under oath — in March 2005:

“Let me start by telling you this: I have never used steroids, period. I don’t know how to say it any more clearly than that. Never.”

Five months later, Palmeiro was suspended for failing a drug test.

ESPN: Palmeiro Docked 10 Days For Steroids

And, so I fell out of love with baseball.  Not because Rafael Palmeiro was my favorite player.  He wasn’t, although I loved him as an Oriole.  Still, I was angry enough to quit baseball.

I don’t know how to say it any more clearly than this … I’m quite conflicted over performance enhancing drugs (PEDs).

Here’s the Yogic view.  Yoga includes the Yamas and Niyamas, limbs governing personal behavior and lifestyle.   One of the rules is Purity – often defined as not abusing the body with unhealthy food, drugs, or activities.  Clearly, Purity is at risk when you’re taking PEDs.  Another rule is Truthfulness.

From a Yogic perspective, PEDs destroy the body (and we already know that the body can be severely and permanently damaged by the use of many of these drugs).   Lying about it just compounds things.

Even Stevie, my cat, knows about my own Performance Enhancing Drug — my daily Diet Mountain Dew habit.

OK, full disclosure from me.  I use PEDs.   I’m using right now.  I have caffeine every day, even though I know it’s not good for my body.   Is it a PED?  You bet it is.  It makes me a better massage therapist and a better Yoga instructor.  It ensures that I can teach a Yoga class late in the evening and still be “on” and bright-eyed.

Maybe it’s just a mild stimulant.  But, it’s still a stimulant.  It’s a drug.  I use it.  And, I’m not the only one.  So, you see how quickly this issue can become complicated.

Many of us are guilty of using something that “enhances” our work or our play.  Maybe there are some in baseball who see their PEDs as simply their version of caffeine.

The difference is that in baseball – and other sports – the use of these drugs is forbidden.

And, some people get caught.

The more I read, the more people whisper, the more I hear that everyone in baseball is doing it; only the unlucky few get caught.

I guess I would argue that, if it is going to be banned, then Major League Baseball has a responsibility to work a little harder to find and punish as many “cheaters” as possible.

And, why are some of these drugs banned when others like cortisone – also a steroid – are not only approved, but, from my perspective, downright abused by pro sports?

My husband argues that PEDs skew baseball records – and part of what makes baseball so special is its love for tradition and statistics.  But, even before PEDs, there were amphetamines and who knows what kind of snake oil they were using before that. If Roger Maris deserved an asterisk on his homerun season (an asterisk that actually never existed), then shouldn’t those who broke records under the cloud of steroids?  (Although, to be fair, none of them actually tested positive for anything.  So, who’s to know?)

And, what about spitballs, pine tar, phantom tags, and myriad other forms of cheating?

(By the way, the Giants’ Melky Cabrera could even still win the NL batting title this year, despite his suspension this month.  I like the Giants and all, but still, that seems a bit unfair.)

I don’t like steroids.  I don’t like cheaters.  And, I don’t like liars.

I’m just trying to figure out why Melky Cabrera — or anyone — would risk it.  Maybe I need to look at it from another perspective.

When ballplayers hit .300 they’re considered superstars.  (My husband and I joke that the Orioles are unaware that batting averages are allowed to go that high.)

But, think about it, these guys who are batting .300 are “out” two out of three at bats.   And, they’re the BEST in the game.  In their world, taking a chance on a PED, knowing that you might — might — get caught, but probably won’t, is way better odds than their regular day at the plate.

The rewards far outweigh the risks.

Last night on ESPN, Orel Hershiser argued that until MLB takes the PED situation seriously – by making the penalty severe enough that a player would be foolish to risk it – then the problem will continue.

Major League Baseball will continue to nab the unfortunate few careless or unlucky enough to get caught and everyone else will breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn’t them … and go back to what they were doing.

So, are we fans angry because they used drugs?   Or, because they got caught?

Are Giants’ and A’s fans angry because Melky Cabrera and Bartolo Colon used drugs or because they got caught leaving their pennant-chasing teams in the lurch?   (On the other hand, are Dodgers’ and Angels’ fans secretly gleeful?)

Are we sitting smug and self-righteous, secretly happy to see a rich superstar have a run of bad luck?  Or, are we hypocrites because we cut corners in our own lives, maybe even cheat from time to time, and take our own forms of performance enhancing drugs?

So, here I sit, my Diet Mountain Dew – my own PED — right next to me, trying to make sense of it all.  And, all I come back to is this.  I don’t know how to feel.  Betrayed?  Angry?  Or, just resigned to the fact that as long as a game offers such enormous rewards, it will be worth the risk for a player to be all he, or she, can be.

I just don’t know.

Be Quiet

About a week ago my husband got me a book and said, “Here.  Read this and tell me if there’s anything I should know in it.”  First of all, wasn’t there a Seinfeld episode where George has someone read books for him?  Anyway, the book is about the online media — specifically big blogs — and how they manipulate and overload people to encourage clicks and page views and user activity.

I don’t really like the book or the author — who admits he was a PR guy who did all the same sleazy things he is chastizing bloggers for doing now.  I’m not even sure I believe what he’s writing — he tells such a back story of how he couldn’t be trusted with his copy online, why should this book be any more truthful?

But, here’s what sticks with me.  What’s wrong with a little quiet?

To be successful, he writes, a blog has to be noisy, constantly updated, larded with clicks and provocative headlines.

I got nothin’.

This blog is quiet as a mouse.  I’ve had one click in the 3 weeks it’s been up.  Full disclosure — that one click was me.  And, I clicked by mistake.  Even I didn’t mean to click on this site.

But, I kind of like the quiet.

It’s like baseball.  Baseball is so quiet.  Nothing happens for these long, sweet intervals.  Everyone just stands there, watching and waiting.  All there is … is a green field, a handful of guys, and waiting.

It’s not that the players are standing around stupid.  Instead, they are being present, being ready, and — like a game of chess — have expanded the stillness into all the possibilities that may come.  You’ve got to be pretty good to keep yourself so centered when things seem so quiet.

I love that.

Yoga is like that.  And, it’s what scares many people away.  In the middle of a flowing series, I sometimes ask my students to stand still.  And, many get antsy.   They don’t want to.  They want to DO something else.  You are doing something, I insist.  You are standing there.

According to the book I’m reading, the best blog posts are 200-300 words.   This guy clearly doesn’t understand how exciting extra-inning games can be.  I bet he hates baseball.  I bet he thinks nothing happens.  He’s wrong.

Now, I’ll just soak in some quiet.

For awhile.

Slumpasana

Slumpasana.  That’s what I call the droopy pose I sometimes see my Yoga students in.  They’re sitting at the start of class, but clearly the day has worn them down.  They’re stooped over, scrunched up.  Their muscles have abandoned them and their posture curls.   Their heart sinks into their belly.  Their spine collapses.

I can’t even make eye contact, because they’re all curled down.  They look so sad — a deflated body where a person used to be.

I’ll step behind them and adjust them by drawing their spine up and shoulders open.  It’s about getting the heart to widen.  Sometimes they stay up.  Sometimes … they slump right back down … or as soon as they think I’m not looking.

Without strong, healthy muscles, the body loses its structure.  Without energy, the body loses its structure.  And, when the world weighs heavy on you – physically, mentally, emotionally – you hang down your head and slump.  It just seems easier to be curled down.

Orioles catcher Matt Wieters is in a slump.  If my math is correct (and it is sometimes) he is 1 for 27 over the past week.  Wait, scratch that.  Since I’ve tinkered so long on this, he is now 1 for 30.  Sigh.  I better post this before I have to update again.

I don’t mean to pile on here.  I know it’s only temporary … slumps always are. Aren’t they?

It’s painful to watch a batter or a pitcher in a slump as they grimace in frustration, drop their head down, stoop their shoulders and shuffle off … out of the batter’s box or off the mound.  It can just break your heart.

I endure slumps on my Yoga mat.  Unrolling my mat can feel like an invitation to fail.   Fortunately, I don’t have 30,000 people staring at me as it unfolds.

Sometimes the failure is physical.  Really?  I’m a Yoga instructor and I can’t hold this pose for a minute?  I am weak and old and horrible.    Sometimes the failure is mental.  Dammit, where is this bliss they keep talking about?  Why am I the only one who sucks at this?  Heaven knows I’m miserable now.  Really? You, too, Morrissey?  And, sometimes I just lose energy.  I slump because all the energy has been sucked right out of my bones.

Sometimes I just lie down and wonder if that can be “good enough” for my practice.  And, that slump affects every other aspect of my life.  I sigh and my body sighs and everything seems harder and heavier and more annoying.

By the way, I’m actually rocking the Yoga mat like Buster Posey right now (he’s had a good couple weeks).  I feel strong and inspired and every once in awhile I see that magical bliss sitting out there and I can just about reach out and … nearly … nearly … nearly  touch it.  I vibrate from the inside out, and things are fun and the birds sing and my heart is wide and my spine is long and my body feels strong. Everything seems so effortless.

The next slump seems so far away … although I know it’s out there, just waiting for me to get cocky and a little too comfortable.

Not too long ago, I told one of my Yoga teachers about a struggle I was having with my practice.  He sent back a brief email.  It read: “Persistence is success.”

Oh.

Just unroll the mat.  Just do it again, even if it really seems to not be getting better.  Because sometimes it’s the doing that is the most important part.  And, how will you know if a slump is gone, unless you keep at it?

So, what’s the point?  No point.  This is a blog afterall that is only a week old and really had no point at the start.  But, we all slump.  And, we unslump.  And, we slump again.

I hope Matt Wieters unslumps.  I hope that I don’t slump soon.  And, I wish non-slumps to you.