Tag Archives: Yoga

Thank you for over-sharing.

12 May

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My yoga instructor this morning was a guy who takes it all a bit too seriously. In addition to wearing nut-huggers, sporting a thick ’70s porno ‘stache and playing a flute during class, he walks around projecting “deep thoughts” in a stage voice during the class.

(If this is ringing a bell: yes, I’ve written about him before.)

Today’s theme was “asking for help.” It was a great message: part of living in – or belonging to – a community is allowing people to help you. It’s good for you, and people enjoy being allowed to help. Nice lesson and I should probably try to follow it more often.

But where it went a bit sideways was in the examples he chose to share with us. During our 90 minute class, I learned:

  • He has a voice coach for opera
  • He has a language coach for foreign languages
  • He has a life/career coach
  • He once had $52,000 in credit card debt
  • He was able to pay it off using a debt relief service

Each revelation made me lose focus on my yoga pose and instead head down a mental HabiTrail of marginally related thoughts.

Of COURSE he has a voice coach! No wonder he always projects his voice like Tobias Funkë. I wonder if he’s capable of a regular conversation without a stage voice? 

I wonder what foreign languages he studies? Italian seems like a no-brainer because of the opera, but I’m also going to vote for Spanish. Because he looks like someone who would like to use authentic pronunciation when ordering at Taco Bell.

A career/life coach? Whoa – that one had her work cut out for her, because I’m not actually seeing opera singer + yoga instructor + floutist as an obvious career path. Also: I didn’t realize one could AFFORD a life coach in pursuing that career path.

Ah ha! Let me guess how you racked up $52k in credit card debt. I’m going out on a limb here, but – was it all the coaches? 

Or maybe it was the flute.

Or the shorts. 

Actually – there’s really just no telling.

5 Ways in Which My Yoga Instructor Resembles Tobias Funke.

4 Feb

I’m pretty sure my yoga class was led by Tobias Funke this morning. If you don’t know who Tobias is, he was a character in Arrested Development. Here is a highlight reel to give you a bit of flavor:

So now that you have a taste for Tobias, here are the parallels between him and my yoga instructor:

  1. Both consistently project a STAGE VOICE to project when communicating and over-enunciate for dramatic effect. DownwarD. DoG. 
  2. Both have mustaches that hail from another decade. By which I mean the 1980s.
  3. Both present a vibe of confused sexuality.
  4. Both wear nut-hugging shorts.
  5. Both play the flute. I’m just going to leave it at that.

Surprisingly, I’m not a natural blonde.

21 Jan

You know that sports expression about “leaving it all on the field?” (Or as we say in yoga: leaving it on the mat.) Well, I had that kind of week at work.

In fact, I left so much on the mat, it appears I didn’t save anything for the weekend. In an uncharacteristic move, I spent most of today on the couch, napping and listening to an audiobook (repeatedly, since I couldn’t stay awake).

I finally peeled myself off the couch at 4:30 to go to yoga. There was a class in session, so I took my shoes off and plopped on a seat, waiting for it to end. Then, self-doubt kicked in. What time is it? Is that MY class? Am I late? 

I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. Nope: still five minutes until class. Whew.

But I couldn’t remember there being a class on the schedule immediately before mine, so I pulled my phone back out to check. And that’s when I realized: I had hoofed it to the studio for a class that is scheduled tomorrow. Awesome.

Perhaps I need a pedicure?

Shaking my head, I put my shoes back on and sheepishly walked back downstairs. As I passed the front desk, I shrugged and explained, “I’m a dumbass.  I was thinking today was Sunday. See you tomorrow instead!” The girl just laughed and waved me out.

I walked half way home before realizing I didn’t have my yoga mat with me any more. So I had to turn around and go back to the studio. When I walked through the door, the girl said, “Sunday, already?” Clever. Ass-whooping time, already? 

I retrieved my mat and headed back home, returning to the couch I never should’ve left in the first place. Turns out ? There’s a fine line between leaving it all on the mat, and just plain leaving the mat.

 

Yes, another fart post. There goes *that* resolution.

16 Jan

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My entire life, I’ve been told I “seem wiser than my age” or “have an old soul” or “am mature beyond my years.”

Boy, that “Playdoh with Plato” class my parents enrolled me in as a preschooler was money well spent. Actually, no, there isn’t really a class named that.

But as a kid I often did enjoy conversing with my parents’ adult friends more than kids my own age. When I first started working, I was given responsibility that aligned to someone 10+ years my senior because everyone assumed I was older. That trend continued for years.

So it’s somewhat ironic, then, that I function like a twelve year old when it comes to fart humor. I was reminded of this yesterday at yoga, when the girl next to me was clearly not having a good workout. When we started the ab portion of the class and began doing crunches, she squeaked out an audible fart. I would’ve been able to rise above it, were it not for one thing: her reaction.

Instead of continuing with her workout in a way that could’ve cast doubt as to who the culprit really was, she immediately collapsed onto her back and lay as still as a corpse while the rest of us continued hammering out crunches. It was the equivalent of seeing a football official throw a flag on a play, directing everyone’s attention to the field to spot the problem.

This gave me the giggles. I might have worked past them, had two other things not happened.

First, she did it again, the next time we did sit-ups. (Have you learned NOTHING?!) I’m thinking we need another version of the the, “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…” adage to help this poor girl learn from her mistakes.

And second, later in the workout, when we shifted from down-dog to plank (a very routine move) she collapsed. She hit the floor with an audible thud/moan combo. Half the class stopped and turned around, thinking they would see teeth scattered around on her mat.

I know, this really isn’t funny. And it’s mean of me to laugh at someone else’s embarrassment. I really do try to be a better person, to rise above it. But if it’s any excuse, I think things like this tickle me so much not because I’m enjoying her misfortune, but rather because I’m relieved it’s not me. Because another day, in another class, it has been very well could be.

Although, with my ninja-like reflexes and shameless pride, my typical reaction to an awkward situation is kind of like this:

I think *someone* needs a New Year cleanse.

2 Jan

I closed out 2011 by hitting a vinyasa yoga class Saturday morning before Alan and I left for our mini-getaway. Man, am I glad I did: it’s not every day your yoga instructor is drunk.

At least, I assume she was still buzzing from the night before. That’s actually giving her the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, I’m not sure how I’d explain this class to a first-time yogi…

She walked in and said, “So. Wow. It’s New Year’s Eve. Well, not eve. But New Year’s Day Eve. Eve Day. You know what I mean, right?”

People were giggling, but generally going with her. Then she began her soliloquy.

“So the new year is a great time for reflection. And introspection. There are milestones and this is a big milestone. I mean, it’s a WHOLE NEW YEAR. Right? And how great is that? I don’t know about you, but I’m glad to see 2011 done. It was a weird year for me. Just really, really weird. Man, I hope 2012 is better. Because this is a time to reflect about what we want. And I want a better year. And we are all humans, and our energy joins together and if we raise it up… I’m getting choked up! I’m choking on my words!”

I wish I could tell you I took artistic license with that quote in the interest of humor. But I didn’t. That’s more or less what she said, though I think my version is less rambling than the actual speech. I’m pretty sure this is why yoga gets a bad rap.

And for the two people who weren’t smirking after this babble-fest, she took it up a notch. “I mean, a new year is a big deal. But this year? Not to be freaky or anything, but it’s 2012. You know: 2012! The world might be ending! Dom-dom-dom! Seriously, I quit my job because I was like, ‘If the world really DOES end in 2012, I want to LIVE now. Pretty intense, right?”

(c) FullChordPress - by Tim Garrett (www.fullchordpress.com)

After she “re-centered” herself, she continued. “So I had a whole lesson planned for this morning’s class, but I got an email on my way here from another yogi who teaches at another studio across town with 20 questions for reflection. So I thought it would be good to read these to you so you can meditate on them during today’s practice.”

She then went on to read all 20 questions rapid-fire. I barely had time to process one question before she moved on to the next. The only one I was able to fully digest was, “What was a source of unexpected joy in your life this year?” And reason I retained that one is because she paused and said, “Right? Like my sister had a baby this year. And that was totally unexpected. Huge surprise. Huge.”

Much like that yoga class. Unexpected joy, though probably for the wrong reasons.

Call me Nostradamus, but I think it’s safe to predict what her biggest source of unexpected joy will be  2012: waking up to realize the world didn’t end. In fact, I’ll go one further. Biggest lesson learned in 2012? Not to max out her credit cards based on the Mayan calendar.

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