Esmie Woodhouse

Some things, no matter how much you may try…just don’t make sense.

My yoga teacher suffered an aneurysm last Sunday, a day after our Saturday morning class. The word unbelievable doesn’t describe what this is…I can’t find a word.

The fact that this happened turns sense on its ear. Esmie is inspirational. She is 65 years old and looks and seems like she is twenty years younger. She sees the world as a connective whole; she believes that we all have an influence on each other and that we are at our best when we are centered, calm and positive. She believes in a higher power, and that that power will take care of you; she has been one of my biggest supporters during this very trying year, and she is my friend.

Her class has become more than just a yoga class for me over the eight years that I’ve been going; this year especially, it has become a barometer of sorts. I would try and get to that class if I had even just the smallest amount of energy; if I could make it to the class I would feel better afterward for having been there, and a sense of accomplishment in having gone.

Out of control is what this feels like, there isn’t very much I can do right now, so I will do what I know she had done for me during this last year; I will think of her every day. Through thought I will send her healing energy, and I will hope that not only her physical strength, but that her spiritual belief will restore her to a happy, healthy life.

Saturdays will be different for a while.