In an effort to become a healthier version of myself, I have recently started taking yoga classes through BU’s Bearobics program. As much as I enjoy the stretches and the planks (ew) and the poses, my favorite part of the session has become the last ten minutes of corpse pose. In an effort to enter a deep relaxation of both body and mind, we lay flat on our backs with our left hands on our hearts and our right hands on our stomachs. To help with this process, it is suggested that we envision a peaceful place. I’ve been picturing the past moments when I would sit on my porch at home with the company of the cool breeze and the stubbornly changing leaves of early autumn.
I was excited to get an opportunity to return home last week, even though it was under very somber circumstances, to once again return to my peaceful place. I very much missed it. Every day, the disappointment of not being able to experience it for the first time in my life was slowly swelling and constantly lingered in the back of my mind. So there I found myself: porch, breeze, sprinkles of yellow, orange, and amber in the nearby mountain range. It didn’t take long for the memories of the upcoming fall festivals, high school football games, and Hocus Pocus marathons to be quickly recollected. It was everything that I envisioned, everything that I wanted.
But then I suddenly came back to reality because I started to miss something. I started to miss Waco. I started to miss Baylor. I started to miss my friends, my co-workers, my professors. I even started to miss how the Texas sun makes me feel like a turkey roasting over a crackling fire. It was then that I realized that this porch will always be here and that these September days will always feel the same. But if I stay obsessed with recreating these purely comfortable moments, then I’ll become stagnant and the opportunities to find, appreciate, and enjoy other peaceful places will be forever lost.
When I go to yoga tonight, I will envision a different place during the last ten minutes of corpse pose. I will think of a special place that I was taken to during one of my first days in Waco and that I immediately visited upon my short hiatus. It lies on the top of a cliff, beyond the barriers and echoes of voices. The tranquil Brazos River flows powerfully below while the foliage of Cameron Park sprawls effortlessly out behind. In the distance, McLane Stadium’s rafters and Baylor’s elegant spires peek through and even further, water and electrical towers loom. It is beautiful. It is Waco. I know that this once foreign spot, will (sooner than I could ever imagine) bring back a wave of new memories that are in the process of being made. I know that this will be my new peaceful place.
By Matthew Doyen