pedal your feet and laugh.

This is Rebecca.  Last Sunday (Mother’s Day) my cousin Jessica took me to Rebecca’s yoga class which was taught in this super-cool, homemade, totally hippie dojo, surrounded by funky houses and a healthy garden somewhere in Austin.

Three sides of the dojo were made of windows.  Here’s the one we faced during class:

Hmmm.  Sideways.  It did look like this during at least one part of the class, so I’m going to quit trying to fix it now.  At the end of the class, Rebecca had us do bridge.  From there, we lowered down so that we were on our backs, with our legs up — thighs perpendicular to the floor, and shins and feet parallel to the floor.  Does that make sense?  Anyway, then she said, "Now for everyone’s favorite part: pedal your feet and laugh!"  And we did.  She has this great laugh, and I found myself laughing really hard, tears and all.  It felt really great, and damn, did it ever work my abs.

I got on a plane a couple of hours later and came home to fifty seven mosquito bites on my arms and legs and back.  I have become a spoiled California girl and am so glad to not have to live with those things all summer long.

Now it’s Sunday afternoon again and today I get to go to Austin’s California cousin, Berkeley, to watch a panel of big shots talk about the web.  I think this gathering will be decidedly less hippie, but I haven’t been able to shave my legs because of all the bug bites, so I’ll at least hippify it some.

I’m having a rough patch of situational-induced depression.  Almost every email I write has "*sigh*" in it, and I stole and ate a bunch of the girls’ chocolate for breakfast.  I need to get to the beach.  The ocean always makes me feel better.