Eternal nothingness is okay if you’re dressed for it
Will I be fucking late for yoga.
If they did some statistics on the number of accidents in Los Angeles caused by diet coke drinking, spandex wearing, downward doggy doing females, how many would register? – I can just see the bespectacled number cruncher, adding another to the count - “yep, she was on her way to yoga…”
As the girl in the Toyota in front of me cuts me off at the 5th street exit, I momentarily consider releasing all of the the expletives I am thinking. And then I imagine walking into yoga and seeing her next to me on a pink flowered mat. Uhh…. Namaste to you too…
I look around the room and see approximately 10 shirts that scream; everyone-definitely thinks-I-do-yoga-now-even-if-i-just-wear-this-outfit-to-the-gym. I see approximately 21 people with 4% body fat. I see 24 people wearing Lulu Lemon pants. I remember walking into the Lulu Lemon store and asking myself if I can really justify spending ninety-eight dollars (plus tax) on these elastic black pants. They promise to make your ass look great. But is that really the point of yoga? How others see you?
I was under the impression that the challenge is to see into yourself, and straight ahead at the same time.
Yoga is tough. ( See above) The biggest challenge for me is not letting my mind wander from eagle and crow and various other animal inspired poses, to the work day ahead. Which is extremely difficult. But, feasible. You really don’t want to be thinking about that email you forgot to respond to as you ease into crow. You will most certainly end up with your a stamp of hardwood on your forehead. Not a pretty way to start your day. Which is really why I am here… right?