When I think about it, I had many "first classes" that sort of blend together now, since at that time they were just a way to get some exercise. But after graduation, when I was living in NYC, someone I worked with started teaching at OM Yoga Center and pretty much insisted we come out to support her. Never one to say no, I said yes. And then the fear set in. What did I get myself into? This was New York! And downtown yoga! I was an athlete of the defensive sort; certainly not graceful like the women I knew who did yoga, all bendy and pretzel-y and dancer-hopeful-ish who took lessons at Broadway Dance Center on the side.

But I went anyway. I think my friend who was also going promised me a smoothie after. So why not? I could hang for an hour if it meant mango at the end. We climbed the stairs and eventually arrived in a sun-filled room. And I remember throwing away all my notions. I decided to go with it. I trusted the teacher outside of the studio, so I figured she'd know best. And what happened next was transporting. The city fell away, the sounds of the street became a rhythm. The teacher's voice guided us through. I didn't notice anything else around me. My mind was still. Looking back, this was the first time I came to the mat with a beginner's mind. That said, it was also the first time I had felt that way - and I think I had what could best be described as a panic attack during Savasana. You can take the girl out of New York...

Thank goodness for that smoothie!

After that, I spent years trying to make my practice regular. But my intense jobs meant it only came in spurts. And I realize now that every time after that, I've been trying to get back to that first class - that time when I just went with it, was forgiving of myself, my body and my mind. Only back then, I thought I just had no idea what was going on.

Sure, I didn't REALLY know what I was doing. I'm sure I dropped my hips during plank, my arms were probably all "wrong" in Down Dog. My Triangle was probably crooked. But that's the beauty of yoga, isn't it? Even the most advanced student is always still a beginner. There's always a day where you are humbled. There's always something to work on. There's always the chance for bliss. That was a "first" for me.