Randi Kreiss

Mountain pose for pre-holiday peace of mind

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We have a choice. We are here now, in the brief, wild weeks before the Trifecta of Stress: Thanksgiving, Christmas and Hanukkah, and we get to decide how to survive this interlude.

I am about to throw you a lifeline. Please consider yoga. Several months ago, I decided to have a look at what I had always considered a flaky practice, embraced by people on the outer fringes of life (Californians). Yoga practitioners looked outlandish to me, bent into pretzel poses that surely could lead to permanent disability. Downward-facing dog, in my mind, was a cliché of transcendental claptrap.

Well, we all evolve. My back had been troubling me, and a respected friend suggested yoga. After initially laughing off the idea, I took another look, reached out to an instructor, and now I do not know how I lived without it all these years.

Yoga is slowing me down, in a very good way.

I am referring to how quickly, or not, we move. It is remarkable that two individuals, members of the same species, can move at rates so different that they seem attuned to their own inner metronomes, set to different speeds.

I walked into a local food market some weeks ago, saw the lines, observed the stress etched in the face of shoppers, noted that there weren’t any carts left, listened briefly to the amped-up holiday music, heard a 2-year-old screamer demanding licorice, and bolted. I short-circuit at a certain speed and have to step back. In the case of the market, I walked out, frazzled by the sensory overload.

Then I began doing yoga. I’m not much of a joiner, so, after a few classes, I found a website with yoga videos, set up a space in my house where I can leave my mat out, and I try to do a class every day. My body feels better, my back doesn’t hurt and I am calm. Well, calmer.

A friend is obsessing about preparing not one but two Thanksgivings for the various branches of her family. She’s also worried about her Christmas tree, and when to decorate, and what kind of meal to prepare for Christmas dinner. She has a look in her eyes like Claire Danes in “Homeland.” Not good.

Another pal has been spending most of her time in local toy stores. She has 12 grandkids and, apparently, they all need gifts for all eight nights of Hanukkah.

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