Friday, November 14, 2014

Gentle Yoga



I started a yoga practice though saying the phrase "yoga practice" makes me want to hurl; I don't want to be one of those Lulumon-clad expensive-blonde middle-aged estrogen-plummeting women who rush from their hair appointments to their yoga classes with their batik-print of elephants Fair Trade mat carriers and hemp 'n leather water bottle holders. Which is to say, I am fighting with myself.

I just saw this really adorable batik-print of elephants Fair Trade mat carrier. I had say, as if talking to my dog, NO! HEEL! DO NOT CHEW!

My "yoga teacher" (again, I want to hurl) is this lovely 60s round grandma-type who goes around when we are in corpse pose spritzing us with lavender water, asking us beforehand, if that's okay. I'm like, "Douse me, good woman!"

She adjusts my bolsters. She encourages me to find my sits bones, while the New Age Andean-pipe music softly flutes. She makes a point of suggesting we collectively dedicate our practice to something like world peace and in that moment while my "back body" is supposedly "finding the ceiling," I'm like, "Right on. World peace it is."





2 comments:

  1. I want your yoga teacher. My first yoga teacher was a round grandma type from India (she was also my English teacher) who had once tutored a maharaja's children. These sylph-thin blonde muscled teachers just don't have the character.

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  2. Well dear if you need a yoga teacher and not getting best teacher then I would suggest you to search for online yoga videos. I am sure this way you can make your schedule and you will get great benefits.

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