Saturday, January 16, 2010

Are you sure this road leads to enlightenment?

In my quest to get healthier, lose weight, and lower my blood pressure, I've decided to learn yoga. The first class I went to was sublime. The teacher spoke in a soothing voice and reminded us all that if we chose not to do a pose (or couldn't do a pose), we were free to just lie on our mats and breathe. (I'm certain she was looking at me when she said this.) If we wanted to just sit and breathe, she was cool with that. I can do this, I thought. And then I took another class from a different teacher.

I happily went to the class and reassured a person new to the class that it's called "gentle yoga" and that I was quite sure she had nothing to fear. The teacher would be understanding of those of us who couldn't do the poses. And then the class began.

The teacher spoke with a heavy German accent. Though sympathetic, she insisted that we try every pose. "They're not as hard as you may think." I struggled to do the poses, but I tried each one. I even managed to stretch my arms down in front of my prostrate body and nearly (with emphasis on nearly) touch the floor with my palms. I turned my head one direction and my body the other. I was trying. Really, I was.

"Lie down on your stomach," she instructed us.

"Reach your arms behind your back."

"Bend Your legs at the knee and grab your ankles with your hands. If you can't reach your hands, I'll give you a strap to put around your feet so you can reach your hands."

I rolled over onto my ample belly, put my hands behind my back, and came absolutely nowhere near close to grabbing my feet (and my feet are big). I ignored the strap that was next to my mat. I was content with myself. I had caused no injury to myself, I was minding my own business, and no one seemed to care. Well not quite.

"Would you like some help," the teacher asked as she loomed over me, interrupting my deep breathing.

"No, no. I'm fine," I whispered so as not to break the concentration of the rest of the completely silent class.

"Are you sure? It's a great stretch."

"No, no. I'm fine. Really."

"Come on. I'll help you."

"No," I muttered as she straddled my body.

"Here. I'll put the strap around your feet and then you can grab it."

"Ok," I grumbled as she hog tied and quartered me.

"Ok. Relax. I'm going to hold your shoulders."

Relax? Is she serious? She grabbed my shoulders and I hung suspended in the air while Godzilla hovered over me. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Ok. I'm fine now. That's enough," I whispered. No response.

"Really. I'm fine now. That's enough." No response.

To hell with the concentration of the rest of the class. "Let me down!" I implored. I flopped to the floor and Godzilla moved on to the next pose.

I have been enlightened: choose your yoga class carefully.

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