The Idea Inside the Morning

The idea inside the morning salutation was harder to get at than the idea behind it.  Patricia was the first to show us a sun salutation.  Fresh from a summer of guiding rich kids in the Teton Wilderness, Frank had invited Patrica joined us on our last official climb of the summer: Mt. Baker, the South Ridge. I think they both wanted to show each other their place in the wilderness.

We stumbled from our tents early the morning after our climb zipped into fleece jackets in various shades of eggplant, chartreuse, and teal blue, our long underwear peeking out of khaki shorts. Patricia had tied her mink hair back in two piggies and pulled a red bandanna flat between her hairline and forehead. She must have perfected that look in Wyoming.

Waiting for the water to boil on our the singular propane burners, we gazed at the lake beyond us. I wasn't bored. But I wasn't contemplative, either. Nor was I exactly blissfully serene like I am after the first swallows of coffee from my aluminum mug. I wasn't satiated but I wasn't starving. I think I was just waiting. The mountain was behind me, now.

Patricia caught me in this moment. In the voice that she must have used all summer, she, the outsider, really, called us to the shore so she could show us how to run through a sun salutation. I followed.  So did the rest of us.

Arms up. Stretch. Stretch Stretch. Up. Bring hands together in a steeple. Gaze up.  Fold down. Flatten out the spine. Press chest into knees in a singular bow. Flatten spine. Reach out with your arms. Press away.  Again.

Arms up. Stretch. Stretch Stretch. Up. Bring hands together in a steeple. Gaze up.  Fold down. Flatten out the spine. Press chest into knees in a singular bow. Flatten spine. Reach out with your arms. Press away.  Again.

Arms up. Stretch. Stretch Stretch. Up. Bring hands together in a steeple. Gaze up.  Fold down. Flatten out the spine. Press chest into knees in a singular bow. Flatten spine. Reach out with your arms. Press away.  Again.

Frank was beginning to love Patricia. He was straining to be fluid and meditative like she commanded to us on that Sunday morning on the lake shore. I remember clamping my legs together to keep from leaking a little into my long underwear from laughing at his heroic efforts to embrace the idea behind the sun salutation. His stout body so used to attacking things with a hearty heave-ho, straining to respond in kind to the idea of emptying, opening, embracing. In a sisterly slash climbing partner way, I loved watching him first love Patricia.

Frank and Patricia have been married forever now. I lost them almost ten years ago, when they didn't chose me. I always thought witnessing their couples sun salutation as a mountain courtship dance was the story. But I don't think it is. Because, remember, Patricia introduced the greeting to all of us.

It was the idea inside the Morning Salutation.