26. ‘Ōlena
26
‘ōlena
‘ōlena found the place easily enough, and she parked her van at the end of a long line of cars. Then she sat there for a solid five minutes, trying to psych herself up to go inside.
She rarely felt self-conscious anymore, but squeezing her legs into a pair of pants that felt more like sausage casings than clothes had certainly pushed her in that direction. Being the only clueless beginner in a class full of yogis might send her the rest of the way into full-blown insecurity.
‘ōlena was a confident woman, sure of herself.
But how much of that came from staying well within her comfort zone?
All it took was a pair of yoga pants and a fitted tank top to send her right back to feeling like she did when she was thirteen and suddenly taller than nearly everyone on the island, men and women alike. Her height had ensured that eyes were always on her, and she hated that.
She had eventually gotten used to her height, and then she had gotten used to her body all over again as it filled out and she traded her adolescent clothes for roomier ones. She was used to being the tallest of her friends. But occasionally – usually around strangers who weren’t used to her – she revisited that sensation of being awkward and oversized.
It was one reason she loved being near Nate. He made her look normal; everyone else was tiny in comparison.
‘ōlena caught her thoughts spiraling and let out a growl of frustration. She was a grown woman, not a frightened teenager. She would walk into the yoga class with her shoulders back and her head held high, the same way that she entered any room.
This was supposed to be relaxing .
She got out of the van, slammed the door behind her, and stomped around the corner in search of zen.
The yoga class, it turned out, wasn’t in a room. People were spread out in three rows on a huge lanai that was open on three sides, surrounded by green.
“Auntie ‘ōlena!” Juniper ran over and took her by the arm. “You’re here! Come with me. I saved you a spot.”
Unlike most of the women, Juniper wasn’t wearing skin-tight yoga pants or a tiny pair of shorts. Her pants ballooned out from her hips and then pulled together again at her ankles, coming in tight at the bottom of each leg so that they would stay in place if she turned upside down.
“Hello.” Emma looked slender and graceful in her yoga clothes. She’d actually been too skinny when she showed up a few months prior, still reeling from Adam’s death. She had put on a healthy amount of weight since then, and ‘ōlena was glad to see her looking so well.
Still, her eyes drifted back to Juniper’s slightly absurd, very comfortable-looking pants.
“Where did you get those?” she asked.
“These?” Juniper glanced down and pulled at the voluminous purple fabric.
“Yeah.”
“I bought them online.”
“What are they called?”
“They’re harem pants.” Juniper grinned. “You’ve never heard of harem pants?”
She shook her head. “I’ve seen them before, mostly in Puna. But I didn’t know what they were called. They look perfect for yoga.”
“They’re super comfy.”
“I bought myself a pair of yoga pants, but I’m regretting it.”
Juniper cast a critical eye at ‘ōlena’s pants. “Those are more like leggings. The pants you wear most of the time are basically yoga pants.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Have you never been to a yoga class before?”
“Never.”
Juniper clapped her hands together. “Oh, you’ll love it!”
‘ōlena set her teeth together, biting back the I doubt it that tried to escape. She should have chosen another way to relax, something that involved being alone in nature.
She settled down on the mat that Juniper had laid out for her and copied Emma, who was bending almost double to stretch her legs.
‘ōlena could barely reach her toes. When had that happened?
She was on her feet with kids all day, and she felt like she was in decent shape… but when was the last time she had stretched or moved her body in a deliberate way? She was always getting things done and never conscientiously taking care of herself.
She hardly knew where to begin.
There were a few familiar faces in the class, but no real locals. It was all of the people who had moved there in the past decade or so, driving up the cost of living and offering nothing back to the community.
Lord, but she was in a mood .
Maybe she did need yoga.
“Good morning, everybody,” a woman sang out from the front of the class. She looked to be nearly as tall as ‘ōlena was, maybe even the same height, but she was built like a ballerina. She moved like one too, with an effortless grace that made her seem weightless. Long dreads flowed down to her lower back, and tattoos swirled across her shoulders.
“Welcome to my all-levels yoga class! I’m Fern. If you forget, just look here!” She held up her forearm, where a green frond unfurled from her wrist to her elbow.
“I see a couple new faces, so everyone else bear with me as I do a quick welcome spiel. This is an all level class, and everyone is welcome regardless of their level of experience.
“I don’t believe in taking a prescriptivist approach to yoga. In this class, there’s no right or wrong. I’ll speak up if I see you doing something that could get you injured, and I might make suggestions about ways that you can go deeper into a stretch, but no pose ever has to look a certain way.
“You’re here to sink into your body and move in a way that feels right to you. If it hurts to stretch beyond a certain point, ease back. If you can go farther than me, go farther. If you want to sink into child’s pose at any point or rest in shavasana, go for it!
“Only you know what your body needs. Okay? We’re on the same page?” She waited for a general murmur of agreement, then grinned and threw her arms wide. “Good! Let’s get started!”
As Fern led them through a series of poses, ‘ōlena felt herself slowly relaxing into her body. The class was so quiet that she could hear the wind blowing through the albizia trees in the next lot, and she heeded Fern’s reminders to focus on her breath.
In… and out. And in… and out.
For the first time in forever, ‘ōlena focused on her own body, on her muscles and her breath. It felt like coming home to herself.
By the time they finished their meditation at the end of class, her body was buzzing with zen.
“So?” Juniper asked as they rolled up their mats. “What did you think?”
“I liked it,” ‘ōlena answered.
Juniper giggled. “You sound so surprised.”
“I am,” she said honestly.
“Well, I’m glad you came.”
“So am I. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Hold that thought! I’ve gotta see a man about a plant.” She sprung up and ran to intercept a man who was walking away with his yoga mat tucked under one arm. He looked to be about seventy, with a white beard and long gray hair.
“Should I be worried?” ‘ōlena asked Emma.
“No.” She shook her head and smiled. “She’s planting her own herb garden. Cleared out an overgrown piece of land and planted tons of māmaki and hibiscus and butterfly pea. Zephyr offered to give her some Holy Basil.”
“Zephyr?” ‘ōlena protested.
Emma just shrugged.
Juniper danced back over and picked up her mat. “He says we can follow him home to pick up the starts. Can we, Auntie Em?”
“Sure, we can do that.” Emma hugged ‘ōlena, heedless of the sweat that had soaked through her tank top. “See you tomorrow.”
“Are you going to come to yoga again?” Juniper asked, already walking backwards towards the parking lot.
“Yeah,” ‘ōlena said, surprising herself. “I think I will.”