I woke up this morning with my calves in knots (bounding up 500 steps will do that to you). I dragged myself out of bed, waited for a break in the rain, and walked to the yoga deck for a 6:30 a.m. class. Although not quite awake, I couldn’t help but appreciate the peaceful setting, and I looked forward to loosening up my tight muscles and stiff joints.
In nearly every asana, I noticed something special.
Standing in a wide-legged forward fold, I turned my upside-down focus to the blooming plants surrounding the spacious gazebo. I watched a hummingbird hover and sip at a huge persimmon-colored trumpet blossom before zipping away. The light rain tip-tapped on the metal roof. Back upright, I looked out at the heavy fog blanketing the Arenal Volcano. Moving into a balancing pose, I fixed my gaze on a fountain in the garden, steadily pouring water into a small pond. By the time we reached savasana, resting pose, torrential rain obscured the view and drowned out the gentle voice of our instructor, Griselda. Lying on my back, I smiled up at the draped white fabric and ornamental lamps hanging from the dark wood rafters before closing my eyes, taking a deep breath, and letting the downpour provide a backdrop for deep relaxation.
At the end of the class, we all enjoyed a cup of tea while waiting for a relatively rain-free moment to head out. Eventually, the deluge dwindled to a drizzle, and I jogged the short distance to meet Tony for breakfast, ready for another Costa Rican adventure.
