It is always there. In the backseat or trunk. Purple and trusty. Wrapped up with a very special blanket inside. I love having my own lightweight, non-itchy blanket to kneel upon, envelop myself in if the room is chilly during savasana. My daughter Andrea bought me this treasure on one of her trips to Phoenix. We texted back and forth to find the perfect one with colors that resonated with me. I actually care more about the blanket than the mat. This could be a throwback to my childhood affection for a pink blanket that I took everywhere with me. My mother claimed I sat in front of the washer and dryer on those rare occasions when she wrenched it from my muddy palms to launder it. One day while visiting my Nana on Corsa Avenue in The Bronx, I bravely opened the scary incinerator chute - the same chute my brother always threatened to drop me into, surely leading to a fiery death - and cured myself of that affliction. So yeah, I like blankets.
I used to panic when I lost things. But getting older and working the 12 steps of Al-Anon have taught me to trust. Trust the program. Trust the process. Trust that if something is meant to happen, it will. If a lost object is meant to be found, it will eventually reappear. The taking of deep breaths, and removing the anxiety around possessions has served me well. So I didn't run around like a maniac, looking in improbable places in search of my mat. I reasoned it will either turn up. Or not.
This doesn't mean I didn't take some logical, proactive steps to recover my blankie and mat. I knew in my heart the last time I had used it was at the Rec Center in Centennial. I figured the next time I made way there I would look in their lost and found. And I did on one of my return trips from NoCo.* I just informed the guy behind the desk I was there on a mission and I had a good look in the lost and found cabinet beneath the check-in counter. I even inquired if a mat might be elsewhere and he looked in the back, but reemerged empty handed.
No big deal - I also own a hot-green mat that my sister gifted to one of my girls at some point in time. So this mat became my go-to for yoga and Pilates classes and it worked just fine. But no blanket. Each time I returned to Goodson (Rec Ctr) I would peek in the cabinet to no avail. I became relatively convinced that there would be no magical moment. No reunion of my mat and my beloved serape and me.
Around this same time, I started to believe that something nefarious was going on. Did Kenny of Blockhead fame take my mat? Did he extend his juvenile hijinks off the mat and take mine? I thought about my routine after yoga. A steam and shower. I'm quick and many times when I exit the locker room Kenny is still hanging around the lobby. The last thing I do is hit the hallway loo before going to my car. There are a few round tables and I usually leave my mat, gym bag and water bottle on one while taking care of business. Did Kenny take my mat at the opportune moment? Was I so verklempt from his antics in yoga that I didn't notice my mat had gone AWOL?
I don't know what bothered me most. The mistrust of another human being? That I was so out-of-sorts I left the gym without a relatively big belonging? Having dark, suspicious thoughts does not serve me. I didn't care for the feelings that came with it. A bit of paranoia. Perhaps it is early onset Alzheimer's and I needed to get used to being spacey and forgetful. Side note - in this same time period I managed to lock my keys in the trunk of my car while dining in Cap Hill. That is a story for another blog. I just wanted you to know my concern for my mental well being wasn't completely unfounded.
Time passed and I forgot (hah) about my mat. I felt badly that a thoughtful gift was forever lost. I resigned myself to a Patzuk** green exercise mat. Goodson had their annual weeklong closure for cleaning and improvements and I did my best to put it out of my mind. When they reopened after Labor Day I moseyed in for a Zumba class - no mat needed - and thought I'd take just one more peek. I opened the now almost empty lost and found and there it was. As my dad used to say "Son-of-a-gun". I blinked, rubbed my eyes, blinked again. Yes - that was my mat. Still rolled tightly with a little piece of hot pink blanket making its way out of the edge. Hallelujah!
I'm a talker, imagine that, so I had to gush to the lady working the counter how I thought this mat was lost forever, and I checked lost and found on numerous occasions, and where has it been hiding, and boy am I HAPPY!! Without skipping a beat, she told me two things that rocked me.
1) I am super lucky it was not thrown away during the annual clean-up. EVERYTHING gets tossed. She has no idea why my mat was spared.
2) It sat for weeks on the back counter waiting for me, the owner, to claim it. Right here she said, pointing to a perfectly feasible horizontal surface.
I walked away SMH***. No way. I was in there no less than one half a dozen times. Never saw it. I asked my buddy with the glasses to check in the back at least twice. No dice. Now more than ever I am convinced there is some sort of shenanigans. But the part of me that wants to be rational and nice and Zen puts all negative thoughts onto the back burner of my mind. I decide to practice gratitude. I AM grateful. I love this purple knobby mat and brightly colored blanket duo. They've come back to me.
Update: I haven't been back to that Monday morning yoga class for more than five weeks. These thoughts are fresh in my mind, because I am considering that for my practice tomorrow. Will Kenny be there? If he smiles at me sideways will my suspicions return? Can I be in a good head space for yoga knowing I was that rattled? Time will tell.
More important update: YES!! The mat and blanket got a thorough washing before I used them. Even though I was pretty sure they were rolled up exactly how I left them. I may try being chill, but I am also a germaphobe!
Time to Write,
Jane
* NoCo - Northern Colorado
** Patzuk green - an odd shade of lime green that graced our neighbor's house and car
***SMH - shaking my head
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