A few words about my yoga class

I know I’ve written about yoga before, about hating the Ohm. I stand by that.

This morning I attended a yoga workshop and noticed a few things, good and bad, that I wanted to share. Keep in mind that if you are a yoga person, some of this might offend you. Let it go.

First, a bit of the good. I take quite a bit of personal satisfaction when I am able to do moves that the younger yogis in my class cannot. Today’s exhibit: holding a plank for a long fucking time. Boom. I saw you go down on your knees, little twentysomething. Although it was NYE last night and you probably had a few drinks so you’re not at your best right now. Still. My planking is superior to your planking!

Also, I’m ok with the inverse of this. When there’s an older woman who just totally schools me in class. It gives me hope that I will be spry in my older age.

Now, a bit of the bad. People who grunt in class. I want to throat punch them SO HARD. This one woman, she was older, probably a hippie back in her glory days, grunted and make pleasure sounds for almost EVERY MOVE that we did in class. How am I supposed to find inner peace if you’re over there having an orgasm every 30 seconds?

Yoga pants that are basically see-through. Not that I’m looking, but if I can see your panties through your yoga pants, you need either a longer shirt, or you need thicker yoga pants.

People who show off. It’s great that you can do a full headstand or whatever, or crow that moves into a headstand, but if we’re not doing that pose, then there’s no need for you to be doing whatever show-offy thing you’re doing. Happy for you that you’re advanced in your yoga practice, but the rest of us are struggling and we all hate you.

People who invade your personal space. Yes, I know sometimes there’s not much room to maneuver in those classrooms. But if you’re flailing your arms around then please try to contain it to your mat. If you’re constantly knocking into me I’m going to probably turn around and clock you in the face. Namaste.

People with less-than-perfect hygiene. Someone near me smelled like what I can only describe nicely as “ass.” It was more of a “feminine odor” if you catch my drift. It was so bad that at one point, when hunkered down in child’s pose, I tried to sniff out the situation to make sure it wasn’t me. Yeah, just enjoy that visual for a minute. It happened. It wasn’t me, but the scent was distracting enough that it kept me wondering.

I know yoga is supposed to be a time of quiet reflection, where you try to free your mind and find peace. But these kind of things distract the hell out of me and make me cranky. I’m trying to be a better person and it just brings all the nasty in me right to the forefront.

I know I’m not the only one. I caught the eye of a woman across the room who was glaring at the orgasm lady. WE ARE IN THIS TOGETHER, SISTER, is what I tried to convey with my eyes.

Do you find these same kinds of distractions in your yoga practice? How do you overcome them? Obviously I need a way to rise above, because it ain’t workin’ so far.

 

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