When I first retired to Florida, I looked for a yoga studio near my home. I didn’t know the area well and ended up calling a couple of places where I found the prices high and the sales tactics a bit aggressive. I decided my back was doing well enough that I didn’t really need yoga after all and so I managed for over 2 years without it. Then I returned to work, sitting in a chair all day. My spine started a protest movement. Worried that I was facing a second back surgery, I renewed my search to see if strength and stretch moves would help. I found a studio that looked promising and drove over.
The first thing I saw was the setting. Never mind the classes. Can you really go wrong with a location like this? I ventured inside to see if they had anything else that might appeal to me.
And they did.
The inkling that I’d found my yoga home was predicated on my Las Vegas experiences. I took up yoga in the 2010s, almost two decades after I retired as a professional dancer. In true dancer form, I arrived at my first class with my competitive nature leading the way: You can touch your head to your knees? Oh yeah? Watch this.
I know; I missed the point entirely.
But along the way, I got it. I learned yoga isn’t a competition. I learned what I need (and don’t) from a teacher. What I don’t need is a singalong (unless that’s what I’ve signed up for) or browbeating.
Back in Las Vegas (my home for 42 years before retiring to Florida), I had some interesting experiences. As a yoga newbie, I attended a class recommended by the owner. It was fine up until the last 10 minutes or so when we were instructed to join in singing along to a DVD of sacred sounds. Say what? Out of my comfort zone, I sat in the back and watched the participants merrily clapping, swaying and singing at the top of their lungs. The cacophony of Om in various major and minor keys was a bit much. All we needed was marijuana and I’d have felt like I was back in the 70s.
I decided to move on.
My second choice wasn’t much better. When the rest of the class retired to the sides of the room to work on headstands against the wall, my body looked at them and said, “I don’t think so.” I chose to hang out on my mat in child pose. The teacher quickly came over and told me I was expected to participate. I hauled myself to the side of the room and gamely threw my legs up against the wall time and again, hoping my t-shirt didn’t end up under my chin.
Somewhere along the line, it occurred to me that perhaps these classes were not right for me but at the time, I didn’t know the difference.
Now I do.
The gentle yoga classes at Lotus Pond have done a world of good for my back. I figure that’s because the teachers emphasize the nuances of each pose and encourage me to stop if something doesn’t feel right (or good). I have never felt out of place or conspicuous.
The Lotus Pond has a number of affordable packages and all sorts of classes and workshops – everything from yin, hatha, vinyasa and gentle/beginner yoga to sound healing, nature retreats, candlelight restorative yoga, neuromuscular yoga and bi-annual teacher training. Check out their calendar of classes and workshops at http://www.lotuspondyoga.com or call them with your questions at 813-961-3160. They are located at 6201 Lynn Rd. in Tampa.
Lisa Browder 
Leave a comment