Yoga Unplugged

I guess it’s just my week to giggle.

First dolphins played hide and seek in my front yard. Then a bright-eyed seven-year-old came to class with her mom this morning, rolling out a mat to do yoga for the first time.

I met Melina when she was a month old. At seven, she beams and bounces and radiates pure energy. I think she must swallow sparklers for breakfast. Recently she spread bubble wrap down an aisle in her family’s Landrail Point market and talked me into hopping from one end to the other. (It might actually be fun to sneak bubble wrap underneath someone’s yoga mat, but you didn’t hear that from me).

Let me tell you, this little girl could teach Flipper a thing or two about fun. For over an hour she infused our class with her own brand of stretch. Not that she didn’t listen and follow along. She even sat quietly to center-in as we started, and ended with a truly impressive, dead-looking corpse pose. In between, she improvised. Each pose was adorned with a skip or topped with wiggle. Most were somehow accomplished on tippy-toes. Think Yoga Unplugged.

Melina’s mom is Crooked Island’s nurse. One day while I waited for a friend at the clinic, Melina made a sign to keep me entertained. It now hangs on my refrigerator door: “Do Not Feel Sad. I Will Help You. Come To The Doctor Now And Feel Better. My Birthday Is April The 5th 2002.”

Melina + dolphins × giggle = my kind of yoga.