I am obsessive. It can work for you, or against you…really. I have really nice teeth and a filthy car. If I’m invested, I AM IN. And if I am on the fence, I’m out of the yard. Maybe because I am uneasily interested and psychotically unimpressed with things that people typically are pleased by. And yet, something tragically cliche will send me right over the moon with rapture. Like a leap year snow. Or a rainbow. It’s true.
I used to have this habit of joining gyms. I was always into moving around, not sitting still, being healthy, and wearing lycra…….however, I could never really commit to the gym rat race. I truthfully hate gyms almost as much as malls…..and the older I get, the less tolerance I have for pushing through crowds, noise, dirtsmells, fluorescent lighting, and waiting…..and carrying things around. Not my idea of a good time. Still, I paid. I stopped by. I walked around. It reminds me of how i feel about bananas. I look at one and consider one every day, but usually either dry heave half way through or just see a rainbow or a shiny thing and lose interest immediately. I always pay for bananas, and I think they should exist, but they are just not the pea to my carrot.
One day, I thought….why join a gym (too late, really) when I can join a yoga studio and be cool and calm and almost collected. I could continue wearing yoga pants, and now they would have a utilitarian purpose. I would get strong and cut……not like Madonna…..but like someone…..attractive. So I joined Shanti Yoga in my neighborhood and IMMEDIATELY fell straight into a deep gut-wrenching obsessive lusty love. When I love something, I cant stop talking about it. I loved Shanti for a million reasons, but one thing that was right away really special was that my favorite class had 4 people in it. It was like a warm cocoon of happiness. It was like a baby deer, with white spots, and a soft tongue.
Fast forward 2 months, and SLOWDOWNMYMOUTH (please) because there were 30 people in my class last week. As a supporter of Troy, I am of course super happy that Shanti is killing it. As the person who was exiled to the back closet to practice next to the coffee pot….I was feeling a little more than nostalgic over our earlier, more exclusiveeeeeee, experiences. But just like with anything that you love, I just couldn’t put my own personal satisfaction over the best interest of my one true love. I had to share it.
But good things happened too. Sure we a more like sardines, but some super amazing heavy breather sardines (that I also happen to love) stand in a row with me, and their breath makes me remember to breathe. And remembering to breathe, is why I love yoga in the first place. (Sometimes I forget to eat dinner too. I’m grateful for all reminders.)
Also. We practice to snow patrol covering Beyonce. And George Harrison, and Bruce, and the XX, and The Cure, and Adele, and Fitz and The Tantrums. Maybe it’s the sexy playlist….God knows I loveeeee a sexeeeeee playlist, but Tuesday’s really are the new Friday’s, and Yoga IS the new sex.