Herbert Long

Just Let It All Go

The room was dimly lit. Thirty people were face down on their yoga mats. I found an empty spot and unrolled my mat as quietly as possible. After a restless night filled with anxiety I was totally stressed. Arriving late, interrupting the class didn't help.

"Let's transition to down-dog. Take your time," said Lori.

Minutes passed.

"Now let's start a slow transition to mountain pose," said Lori. "Feel your feet grounded to the floor."

A long silent moment.

As I was standing straight, I looked around at the students in front of me, mostly women, directly in front of me was a young man with bulging muscles. He looked like a football player and next to him an older skinny guy, probably my age. Only four guys in the whole class; this might be a good place to meet a woman.

"Now bring your right foot back, straight behind your left foot. Arms overhead, hands together, fingers interlaced first finger pointed to the sky," said Lori, bringing my attention back to the class.

Another silent moment.

"Warrior two, rotate your torso bringing left arm to the front, right arm back. You are a strong warrior. You can meet any challenge that comes your way."

She was walking around the room helping students with their postures. When she came to my mat, she laid down a strap and two blocks. "You might want these for some things we do later," she whispered. I nodded.

More silence.

"Listen to your breath. Focus on your Drishti. You don't need worry about anything outside this room. Everything will take care of itself while you are here. All you need to focus on now is your breath and your body. Let everything else go," said Lori.

For the next hour, calm sensations flowed through my body. My heart rate slowed, breathing became effortless.

After class Lori greeted everyone with a small cup of warm tea as we left the yoga room. Dressed in grey leotards, with a retro 70's sweater, Lori was short with an athletic build, long super curly blonde hair fell around her shoulders and halfway down her back. Her whole being was smiling. She seemed very comfortable in this environment and her body.

As we all drifted out to the lobby, I saw Heather and her husband Nick near the front door putting on their shoes.

"Hey." said Heather, grabbing me with both arms and giving me a tight hug.

"Hi Jim." Said Nick.

"Want t' go to lunch? We're going to a taco place just around the corner. It's really good!" said Heather.

The restaurant was busy. We ate outside and the food was delicious.

"Did you like the class?" asked Heather.

"I did." I said. "It was very calming."

"We like Lori's class a lot. We're regulars," said Heather.

"We need to get together and play Go soon," said Nick.

"Yeah. That would be fun. Maybe we can do dinner next week."

"Sounds great," said Nick.

Back home, I let Ben my nine-year-old Golden out to the backyard. I wondered what was up with my daughter Courtney. She had been in Chicago less than a month. I wanted to look up where her phone was. Was she on campus? With friends? I worried about her constantly. I resisted the urge to look up where she was. I called instead. Talking with her, I felt better. She'd already made a bunch of friends. All is well in Chicago. And in LA where my son is. Of course everything's fine there. It's the empty nest here in Houston that I'm having trouble dealing with.

Static filled music and acid reflux woke me to Monday morning. "Ug! I've got to get a new radio alarm!" A job I hate, walks with the dog, and going to dance lessons to look for a girlfriend fill out my week.

Then it's Sunday again and I'm back in yoga class. Lori came into the room and put on some music using her phone. Soft and peaceful. Yoga music, kinda. She was on a stage at one end of the room, she unrolled her mat, and sat cross legged facing us. The stage was raised up about two feet. It was about eight feet deep and fifteen feet wide. The room was big, with cream-colored walls and ceiling. It could hold fifty people on mats and was filling up quickly.

"You'll need a strap, two blocks and a blanket," said Lori.

People filed to the front to pick up the props.

"Let's start out sitting cross-legged. Whatever's comfortable. Pay attention to your breath." She said.

A minute went by.

"Just pay attention to your breath. Don't try to change it."

"Your chest rising and falling. Sit straight, relax your jaw and arms. Follow your breath."

Another minute went by.

"Now breate more slowly. Take a deep breath. Hold it, let it out completely,"

"Now breathe in again, deep breath, deeper."

"Hold it, hold it, and release."

The yoga asanas started with Cat-Cow and progressed through down dog to more difficult poses.

Lori talked about focusing on our breath and letting everything else go. "While you are in this class, just let it all go."

The soundtrack she brought was amazing! It added another dimension to the yoga. The session ended with five minutes of Shavasana and all the tension I had felt during the week before was gone. I had forgotten to worry about my kids in far away places. I didn't think about the woman I could have asked out Wednesday night, or why my new boss at work seemed to hate my guts.

My life didn't change much during the next year. Nick kept beating me at Go, and my boss kept giving me so much shit at work. But something inside me did change. And I kept going to Lori's class, week after week. It was a gradual change. Slow, almost imperceptible.

I was getting more limber. Standing on one foot with my other foot raised behind me was easy now. I could touch my toes with the palm of my hand. I was calmer and my mind seemed quieter. I still suffered from worry and anxiety, but I could usually calm the anxious voices in my head by thinking of my new mantra: "Just let it all go."

Lori was a great guide to the practice of yoga. Each session she would bring a quote or a teaching she had learned during the week. Life lessons, body, spirit and mind lessons that transcended place and time.

Sometimes Lori had been to a late-night concert and needed to detox. She would share with us special asanas that would help refresh our bodies.

Whatever the focus was for each class, one theme would always remain, the core of her teaching.

"All you need to concentrate on right now is your breath. Everything else can wait till after this class. You just have to let it all go."

Eventually Lori retired from teaching yoga. Other teachers came and went. I still practice yoga. It helps me deal with stress and rejuvenates my aging body.

Today, years after my last class with Lori, when I start my yoga practice whether watching a YouTube video alone or in a crowded room at a yoga studio, I close my eyes and I can hear Lori's voice. "Just let it all go."