Yoga lesson

Liesl Brown will always be my favorite yoga teacher. She is the one who introduced yoga into my life. I loved her classes. Her kindness, patience and love shined throughout our practices. Her voice was soothing, her world view brought comfort. Once at the end of our practice when we were all feeling the peace of shavasana she asked us to send that peace to one of our friend who had started chemotherapy. Our practices made me also laugh at times... everyone who remembers the community center at Smyth will understand. It was a gross room, and by that I mean disgusting. The carpet was so dirty that it was impossible to distinguish its color under the many stains; in the winter the room was so humid that the floor was slimy and wet. That’s were our yoga mats rested... as long as I could contain my body on the mat I did not care about the state of the carpet. But as soon as contact was to happen I took every precautions not to touch ‘it’. And every time I looked over to Jennette I knew I would see the same limb hoovering above the groung as to protect it from any contact with the mustard mass underneath. If you could raise your sight higher than the ground then your eyes met the most wonderful view of the Bay area, the lights of the city were sparkling everywhere, the last rays of the setting sun bathed the Golden Gate with a magic light...
Thank you Liesl for sharing with me your love of yoga, it has become a very positive and helpful source in my life, and if I may I want to tell you more about it...
The first few minutes after yoga are the most enjoyable like a whole body massage, the muscles are alive and the mind is peaceful. Since moving from Berkeley to Provo I have been practicing Yoga on BYU campus but the other day I went to a new studio. The class was wonderful and challenging. I came out of it happy and calm, my mind reconnected to my body, the stress of the day evaporated and each muscle invigorated with new energy. As I walked back to the car I was taking a mental note of how wonderful I was feeling. Really, I felt so good all over even down to my feet. Even walking was somehow different. I could not put words to it, just a nice kind of different right there on my soles, right there where the straps from my flip flops were rubbing on my skin, my feet were so alive... Mmmm! that was a good practice!
I got home to the quietness of sleeping children, and the prospect of a nice visit with Chip. In the course of the evening as I was walking pass the front door a scream escaped my lips. Right there next to the door I was shocked to see a strange pair of blue flip flops, the wonderful feeling on my feet had come from walking and then driving in a fellow yogi's shoes.... They felt different because not only their soles were thinner than mine are but also they were slightly too small for me, too tight even on the sides...
So what should I learn from this? Are minutes after yoga so intoxicating with well being that my foot wear can be smaller and tighter and I think it is none the less better? Or should I pay more attention to the poor feet that carry me everywhere as to not dress them in the first pair of flip flops I can (barely) fit in?
The most embarrassing was calling the studio, and try to sound somewhat coherent about the whole flip flop toss.