Marichi

All I know is her name... and I've only met her once before talking to her today.
When I first met her, we walked out of a hot yoga class together. The room is heated above 100 degrees, so, most of us are a sweaty mess coming out. You feel a little self-conscious, obviously, so I wasn't in the perfect mood to chat. She just smiled and made it easier to talk. After a month of other emotional oppositions, my upcoming marriage came up in conversation.
The smile, which was warm initially, broadened ever so slightly and brightened the room. "I am so happy for you," the lovely stranger told me.
I felt something new on the way home. It was a precious thing to meet such unnecessary kindness and she re-entered my mind periodically over the next week.
Is that enough to justify what happened today? I feel as though I must have known her in another life.
Tuesday mornings are Restorative Yoga days. This sort of yoga focuses undoing the work you've done during the week, during other harsher yoga routines, etc. More props are used to support the body so that each pose is relaxing. We also try to meditate and practice deep breathing. While all of that sounds like a nice but boring hour and a half vacation, it brings out, just like harsh yoga, all the weaknesses, sorrows, and inner thoughts up to the surface.
I felt the need to wait after class for her. She usually stays in the room a few minutes more after class to meditate in silence.
"How are you?" I asked her this as genuinely as I would my mother, my best friend, my fiancé. I know it's usually just a greeting with people you do not know, but I truly wanted to know.
She nodded quietly, the smile had changed. "It's been okay."
"How was the weekend?" I knew she had started her yoga teacher certification training that past weekend.
"It was good," she said affirmatively.
"...and your week?"
She just looked me straight in the eye.
"Less good I guess?"
"My grandmother died." Her eyes began to well up.
The stranger part is, my eyes began to tear up as well. I don't even know her, and I started to cry with her. I gave her a real, steady hug... something, as my loved ones know, I rarely offer. We talked for a few minutes about the strength of the soul and the delicate fabric of the body... and our gratitude for our yoga practice to move us through the healing of all our wounds.
There are these random, beautiful experiences where one connects to a perfect stranger... someone who owes you nothing but chooses to offer friendship and kindness. It's a blessing that occurs in a split second because of the years of strength it took to develop a heart, character, and sweetness.
Namasté and Blessed Be.