One Hour a Week

Every Thursday, after my shift at the hospital, I come to a small yoga class in a church hall in Leeds. It is only for nurses. The teacher is a nurse too.

Right now I am lying on a thin blue mat, and I am breathing slowly. Above me, an old heater clicks. Around me, eleven tired women are doing the same thing. Nobody talks.

I am not good at yoga. My body is stiff, and my mind keeps running back to the ward. But this hour is my escape. For sixty minutes, no one needs me, and no machine beeps my name.

The teacher speaks softly. “Let the day go,” she says. “You don't have to carry it home.”

I try. I feel an emotion rise in my chest, something between sadness and relief, and I let it pass. My breathing slows. The day does not disappear, but it grows lighter.

I can't claim that yoga fixes anything. The work is still hard, and tomorrow I'll be back on the ward. But here, on this blue mat, I am calm. For one hour a week, that is enough.

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One Hour a Week

Every Thursday, after my shift at the hospital, I come to a small yoga class in a church hall in Leeds. It is only for nurses. The teacher is a nurse too.

Right now I am lying on a thin blue mat, and I am breathing slowly. Above me, an old heater clicks. Around me, eleven tired women are doing the same thing. Nobody talks.

I am not good at yoga. My body is stiff, and my mind keeps running back to the ward. But this hour is my escape. For sixty minutes, no one needs me, and no machine beeps my name.

The teacher speaks softly. “Let the day go,” she says. “You don't have to carry it home.”

I try. I feel an emotion rise in my chest, something between sadness and relief, and I let it pass. My breathing slows. The day does not disappear, but it grows lighter.

I can't claim that yoga fixes anything. The work is still hard, and tomorrow I'll be back on the ward. But here, on this blue mat, I am calm. For one hour a week, that is enough.

返回读物