|photo by Megan of https://www.facebook.com/PhotoMegTampaBay|
It brought back some memories for me. That blue mat you see has "A. SABADISH" written in black permanent marker on the bottom, now so faint you can barely see it. I wrote my name on it because in 2008 or 2009 we had been having lots of mat mix-ups at my yoga studio in DC. I was a dedicated yogini back then, taking heated group Vinyasa classes almost every day.
I loved this mat because it had a little extra cush to it, and more importantly, was sticky enough that I wouldn't slide off my mat during my Vinyasas and land in a puddle of sweat. The blue reminded me of the ocean back home and, I've been told, matches the color of my aura.
I brought the mat with me from Washington DC to California. It came with me to practice and teach in fancy Santa Monica studios, on grassy bluffs overlooking the Pacific, and as an extra cushion for my first Reiki clients.
It came home with me to Florida, where I now use it as my "outdoor mat," which means its always in my car and covered in sand. It's held up for 6 or 7 years at this point. It's dirty, worn, fraying and therefore perfect. I can't even begin to imagine how many emotional/physical/mental/spiritual breakthroughs I've had while standing or sitting right on top of it.
It's my magic carpet and an old friend. It's been loaned to and supported many first time yoga students without their own mat, many of whom only came because I promised I would bring an extra yoga mat for them to class. It's perfect for headstands. When I stand on it, the nerve endings in my feet instantly recognize the familiar landscape of whatever-yoga-mats-are-made-of, and send signals to my heart and brain and lungs that it is indeed time to practice the ancient science and art of yoga. In many ways, it's been my home as I bounced between the East and West coasts, finally settling right back where I started, my birthplace in St Petersburg.
It's just a mat. But it's my mat. And it's good to be home.