I teach yoga two evenings a week at the local community center. Class size varies from one session to the next but there is a small core who sign up every time. One of them is an older lady who lives down the street and for 76, having never done any yoga prior to starting classes with me a year ago, she is incredible spry and limber. It’s amazing to see her progress and to know how much she enjoys and values the instruction. Introducing people to yoga and watching them find themselves in the practice is even more joyful than teaching grammar was back in my public school teacher days of yore.
During the winter months, Rob usually walks me over to the hall where classes are held. It’s not even a two-minute jaunt. Just out the back door, down the drive, up the alley and across the street. But it’s dark, icy and made more precarious by the bags I schlep with me. He carries my equipment and I point the flashlight, and the process repeats in reverse an hour later when class in complete.
Last night, Rob ran into our sweet elderly neighbor as he was hustling up the alley to walk me home from class. Greetings were exchanged, but Rob stopped to chat because she had halted in her tracks and he had a feeling she wanted to tell him something.
“Your wife is so lucky,” she said.
He didn’t reply and she continued,
“You carry her things and walk her to class and then come back to help her get home. That’s just so nice.”
“Just doing my part,” he replied.
He told me the story later and I concurred,
“I am lucky and I know it,” I said. “I read so much about men who have no idea that it’s the little things day in and out that matter the most, and here I have you. I never have to ask you to pay attention, help out, or for much of anything really. You just do.”
Kind of reminds me of the lyrics to a song I shared not long ago,
There’s no way to describe what you do to me
You just do to me, what you do
Except it’s more than what’s done to me but what is done for me.
He would argue, correctly, that this is a mutual thing, which is as it should be.
But, I am very lucky. I don’t take that lightly or for granted.