Thursday, April 11, 2013

The Yoga Of The Donkey




In my twenties when I was more bendy than I am now, I had a round as an apple plump Indian yoga teacher named Anu who was a graduate student at the University of Pittsburgh making some extra cash teaching yoga in a Unitarian Church basement. You would not expect her to be able to touch her toes and then she'd pretzel herself into some complex asana, all the while telling you reach, reach, reach... and it was you grunting and groaning, in an easy forward bend, Oy, my Achilles tendon.  

I've never been flexible. And now, in age, it appears I am calcifying. Which is true. Osteoarthritis.

I have a series of neck exercises that I hate doing because I am reminded how un-cat-like is my cat/cow pose, how more like a muscle-bound donkey. I feel like braying Anu! Anuuuu!