How I made Crane my Valentine

I've been engaged in a three way argument with crane pose and my body since 2001.  I first saw the pose on the cover of the April 2001 Yoga Journal and I fell in love. It is beautiful and challenging and I had to have it.

Crane is powerful. It looks like a pause--a very, very pregnant pause. It is a still moment, full of potential. It looks like the start of a hand stand or maybe the beginning of a jump through into stick pose. But it is neither--crane is something all of its own.

And did I mention, that I wanted it?

Over the past 10 years or so, my attempts at owning Crane have gone something like this:

"F$$$$$, my wrists, screw you."

"God dammit. I just hit my forehead on the floor."

"I love you CRANE, why, why, why"

And there was that one time that I rolled up my yoga mat, during children's yoga teacher training, and went to the bathroom to vomit and to punch the walls.

I felt rejected. So I cut my losses and forgot all about my beloved Crane. On occasion, a student  would ask me about the pose and I'd pretend to be hard of hearing (sorry).

Then on Valentine's Day, I flopped myself onto my mat in a morning vinyasa class.  We flowed through the standard sun salutations, the warriors, the binds, the triangles and then suddenly we were squatting.

And I was bored. Sweaty, but so bored. I think squatting is just dull.

Then my lovely teacher (who is so not boring), began talking about lifting our pelvis and bringing our head down, about reaching our pelvis down and bringing our head up. Then darling Melissa said,"Lift your feet off the floor"

And I did.

And then she said, "you've now found Crane" (or something about Crane. I am hard of hearing, this might not be an exact quote).

And then I fell.

On my forehead.

But, I got back up. I lifted my pelvis and let my head fall down. I let my head bow down to Crane and to myself for all my many limitations. And I lifted my feet off the floor. There it was my very own pause and I felt light, yet full of potential and of love.

Now I know that Crane has always been waiting for me--I just had to love myself enough and check my gigantic ego, pretend hearing problem and potty-mouth at the studio door. I lightened up and I flew--just for a moment in that beautiful, powerful pause that is Crane, my Valentine.