My yoga friends, the summer has officially come to an end. Well, maybe not officially- I haven’t checked with the farmers’ almanac or the elite group of calendar creators who have the power to declare things like summer has officially ended or let’s have the groundhog decide! But my full-time yoga adventure has (sadly) come to a close.
I write to you from my spectacular penthouse of a college dorm room, where we have air conditioning, enormous windows, and enough space for a futon plus three beds. (My bed is bunked so high I might actually be in space, but the ever-present possibility of falling to my death just makes things that much more exciting.) And being back at school is no excuse to stop practicing yoga!
There’s a Vinyasa studio down the street that I dragged Julie to tonight, and we both bought 3-month unlimited memberships. It isn’t sweaty, we use props, and the instructors don’t tell us our foreheads should be touching our toes, but we’re finding a way to love it all the same.
All in all, this summer has been a most magical adventure: challenging, eye-opening, sweaty. If you get the chance, check out the tab above that says A Grand Yoga Adventure; it’s my final piece for the project and I would just love if you took a gander.
This is where I’m tempted to get cheesy and say I learned a lot about myself, the world is good at its core, you can do anything if you put your mind to it, and other cliche things that are best left on posters in elementary school classrooms. But I’ll just leave you readers with a heartfelt thank you. (I do it all for the fans. Taylor Swift and I are similar that way.)
To avoid boring you with an average corny conclusion, I would like you to imagine that I’m a celebrity on a well-viewed talk show; maybe Ellen, or one of those happy Oprah episodes. (I don’t care that she’s not on the air anymore, O is still the queen of daytime TV.) So I’m discussing my project, and Oprah asks me enthusiastic questions about the sweat, the obstacles, the marvelous blog posts. The studio audience (populated mostly by women ages 35-65) is groaning miserably at the mention of the whole thing being over. Oprah shows a delightful little photo montage of me being sweaty in a variety of places, and viewers across the country are smiling and chuckling and saying to each other I’d really like to meet that yoga blogger girl, she’s just so cool/witty/stunning. And then Oprah asks the question everyone’s been waiting for.
O: So Hannah, tell me. What’s next? Where do you go after this wild yoga blogging success?
(The studio audience falls silent, collectively fidgeting with anticipation.)
H: Well, the project really helped me grow as a person, and I’m just so thankful to have been given such a wonderful opportunity. (Dramatic pause.) But, I’m not sure I’m ready to give up this whole blogging thing just yet.
(The studio audience releases one giant strangled cheer, giant because they know what’s coming next, strangled because Oprah has held up her hands for them to quiet down so she can ask me her next question.)
O: Hannah, does… does this mean you’re going to keep blogging?
H: Yes, I am going to keep blogging.
(The studio audience erupts into wild applause so the viewers at home can barely hear what I said past yes, but no one cares, people across the country are laughing, jumping from their couches, exchanging hugs and friendly slaps on the back. It’s like the Americans just won gold in Miracle.)
So yes, my friends, the news is true- I plan to keep blogging. Possibly about college, possibly about other things. I’ve seriously considered devoting an entire website to elephant puns. But no matter the topic, I’ve decided to continue this adventure- sharing my thoughts and my writing with you, you lucky sons of bitches.
(Thunderous applause from the studio audience, despite the few mothers who exchange offended looks like did she really just say sons of bitches?)
Same time, same place, next week I’ll be posting a link to my new blog. Come check it out if you want, or don’t. (But yes please do, and if you like it send it to your friend/dad/grandmother/cat. That’d be really awesome.)
Namaste,
Hannah
Your Forehead Should Touch Your Toes 