Yogimama
Today I went to yoga for the first time in three years and boy do I ever feel bad.
In order to do a sitting twist, I realized I could only do it if I rearranged my mom-flap—that post-partum tyre around my midsection. I had to tuck it under my elbow. (I'm blaming the baby, but maybe it's the blogging. Maybe it's a blog-flap).
I've been missing yoga for years, but now that I'm back, I miss being away from it. Now, all the annoying things about yoga return to greet me. Like when the teacher asks you to "spiral away" from your soaz (an "invisible bridge beneath your tailbone") or to "scoop your ileosacrum" while "enlivening the sides of your back rib cage." Sure! Why not?
Sadly today reminded me that yoga and I are not a natural fit. When I'm told to send my breath into the spaces that hurt, I never know which place to pick so I end up picking nothing. When I'm meant to be quiet inside my mind I start adding up my husband's recent Amazon purchases. And during the chanting, I always check to see who is singing so out of tune. How could anyone be so off-key? I crack my eyes open. Even for a moment, I can't be in the moment.
It was only at the end of class, in shivasana, with that lovely eyebag on, that I was able to be present and calm. And after, while seated for the final Om—eyes shut, back straight, hands pressed together in front of my heart center—I began to feel my yogic potential as the teacher closed the class with an inspiring little talk. If a lotus can rise out of a dirty swamp, there's hope for me yet.
But then he read a poem he'd written, with the words "dare to dream" in it. And my whole soaz completely unspiraled as I struggled to keep my mouth from twitching.
Looking for that off-key chanter? It's me! And I'll let you in on my dark secret: I do it on PURPOSE. I go in with great intentions--finally discovering my center, sweating harmonically along with others so that I may stretch, learn, grow (well maybe not grow so much as shrink in certain areas)--but then I remember that I hate exercising with others, my center is lost, and that I always want to make fun of the people who seem very serious about class. So, instead of leaving or laughing out loud (both great options but I'm lacking the guts) I chant off-key. Just to disrupt. Just because I'm a jealous, unfit, uncentered misfit. Yoga's fun, huh?
I'm with you. The first and last time I tried yoga, like 20 thousand years ago, I did a stretch that released an unbeknownst to me pent up pocket of negativity (as opposed to all the happily freeflowing negativity that keeps me being me) which caused me to burst into tears. Tears that did not subside for the rest of the day. Lesson learned. 20 thousand years later, I can't even begin to imagine the Pandora's Box of negativity that would be unleashed in a yoga class. I stay far far away from yoga so as to keep those little pockets of negativity alone! They are very happy where they are, unmolested by Down Dog and other meddling types.
P.S. On the topic of off-key chanting, what is up with the noisy breathers? They alone would keep me away from yoga, if I weren't already scared off by the prospect of a flood of tears. How is anyone supposed to tap into any kind of chakra or whatever when you're forced to listen to someone else's nose flute music?
SO....from what you've said, Yoga is just REALLY GOOD BLOGGING MATERIAL!!!
Now I want to check out a Yoga class, if only for the 'sarcasm factor.'
I just wonder if I could keep from giggling....
now i have to admit that even though I am a bit of a yoga mom I agree that there are moments when my "fellow yogis" are a bit much. Teachers with twee (do americans use that word?) spiritualisms, guys who wear revealing shorts while in front of me and farters (yes, I had one today) are my favorite yoga worsts.