No joy with Joy-elle today. It was “namaste” day with Paula. This class was the real-deal-Yoga complete with all of the hokey lotus flower imagery.
I was reminded this morning why I could never take Yoga seriously as a philosophy or religion.
As a Christian, I’m not too fond of worshipping my breath (which if I had to do it , would be up shit creek without a paddle because I was gasping for every oxygen molecule I could find’) or leaning out to the edge of the cliff and coming back before you fall off kind of stuff.
Yoga as a philosophy is all about that “worshipping the creation more than the creator” kind of thing, and well, I’m just not into it. But, I do like the stretching and for my incredibly sore muscles it was welcome relief.
We began with the admonition that our head is like a Christmas globe.
I’m not sure where that fits in, since I’m pretty sure India, as a nation, does not celebrate Christmas.
So, I would also expect they don’t have Christmas globes. But, I wasn’t about to let any negative energy ruin the moment, so I went with it.
She said that “our head is like the Christmas globe and our thoughts are the snow”.
We were supposed to shake the Christmas globe and let our thoughts scatter and then settle down.
I wasn’t exactly sure if I was supposed to really shake my head or if I was just supposed to visualize it. But, okay. Whatever.
Then we were supposed to focus on our breath and for some reason she told us to let it settle into our pelvic floor. The exact spot that was holding my urine from all the coffee I had sucked down on the way there. Nada. Couldn’t do that.
I have enough issues with bladder control and I’m not about to draw any more attention to it. I mentioned this yesterday. Tell yourself you can’t blink or laugh and see what happens.
So, anyway. As it turns out, I actually know Paula the yoga instructor. She does hair at my hair and nail salon. Not my hair, but she works there. So, I see her quite regularly. This might become awkward. There’s a lot of unseemly gossip that goes on in hair salons, and well, you know…..’namaste” and all that.
Paula, like me, is a middle aged woman. This made the entire experience a little more palatable. Joy-elle was just too young, fresh and firm in all the right places. Paula is a petite woman with pretty red hair. She’s fit too, but she’s had kids and well, it shows. I say this in solidarity.
There was another woman there who was every bit of 60-plus. Maybe even 70’s. This gave me a bit of comfort as well. That is, until I saw that she could actually do the tree pose and not fall over. Which, by the way, have you ever seen the tree pose?
I found my favorite pose to be the child pose. That’s because you could actually put your head down on the floor in front of you and close your eyes for a quick little power nap. I reeeally wanted to stay in the child pose, but petite Paula would have none of it.
We did the triangle pose, the warrior pose, the cobra pose and the highly popular plow pose. Well. They did the plow pose. I haven’t stretched like that in years. So, I basically just hung in there for the entire hour and tried really hard not to look at my watch. That is so anti-Yoga.
Tomorrow is going to be a challenge getting to the gym. We have several appointments to make and I am committed to helping out with my 5th grade daughter’s Christmas party at school. So, I can either show up for the 6:15 a.m. spinning class or I can wait until Saturday and meet up with petite Paula for some more namaste Yoga. I dunno. I’m going to have to think on this one today.