Page 3 of Big Pitch Energy

“She's a Reiki master,” she said. “She’ll heal your energy blockages and align your body’s natural flow. Your fastball will be back to normal in no time.”

I took another swig of tea to hide my grimace.

“Sounds...interesting.”

“She helped Mrs. Abernathy with her arthritis. And you remember Coach Wilson? The one with the bad back? He can play golf again now. Eighteen holes, with no pain medication.”

“That's great Mom, but this is different.”

She fixed me with the look that had kept me in line through my teenage years.

“Sampson Robert Cherry, do you think I would suggest something if I didn't believe it could help you?”

Uh oh, it’s never good when she uses my middle name.

“No, ma'am,” I said quietly.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and her fingers flew across the screen. A second later, it buzzed and she smiled. After typing something else, she set the phone on the table and smiled at me.

“Hope can see you tomorrow at three.”

“Mom–”

“Just try one session.” She reached out to pat my cheek, the way she used to when I was a child. “If it doesn't help, I won't mention it again.”

That little gesture sealed my fate.

“Fine. One session.”

“Excellent.”

She stood and kissed the top of my head, then went inside.

I looked at my backyard bullpen and shrugged.

One session. I can do that.

Hell, it’s not the dumbest thing I’ve done in the name of baseball…or to make my mom happy.

It’s not going to fix anything, but it can’t make things any worse.

Hope

“Okay ladies, let’s take it down to the mat,” I said, raising my voice just loud enough to be heard over the soft music in the background. “Draw your knees into your chest and give yourself a squeeze, then let them fall to the right. Open your arms out wide, gaze to the left and breathe into that twist.”

I walked slowly between the mats, checking their form and occasionally crouching down to press against a knee or shoulder to deepen the stretch.

This Tuesday afternoon gentle flow class is one of my favorites. It’s usually smaller than my other classes, which makes it easier to give individualized attention. Most of today’s attendees are women in their sixties and seventies who come each week to move gently, breathe deeply, and care for the bodies that have carried them through their lives.

I led them through the same thing on the other side, then softly guided them into happy baby.

“Breathe into your center. Feel the connection between your breath and the floor beneath you, and when you’re ready, ease into Savasana. Legs long, arms heavy, palms open.”

The studio filled with the sound of collective exhales as the class settled into the restorative pose.

“There’s nowhere else to be. Nothing else to do. Just let go.”

I moved quietly to the front of the room, each step careful and light, so I wouldn’t disturb the peaceful stillness. Lowering to the floor, I crossed my legs and settled into an easy seat on my mat, letting my hands rest gently on my knees, palms up. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep, steady inhale through my nose, letting it fill my belly and chest before releasing it slowly and taking another breath. And another. I tuned into the energy of the room, then stayed still, breathing with my students, until it was time to guide them back.

---