The Yoga Room, a confessional

Because I am so in love with Yoga, I feel compelled to use this space to sing its praises and show you all the cool and intriguing stuff about it.  I mean no irreverance to my life’s partner or to my beloved students but some parts of practicing and teaching Yoga are bizarre and dang funny. 

Don’t even get me started on the flatulence that goes hand in hand with poses like halasana:

If any one tells you, they’ve never experienced the urge to expel gas during this internal organ massaging, toxin flushing practice is lying.  Today it got even more real for me.  A student told me not to mind her because she has a spastic colon and may need to take a break every now and then.  “That’s cool,”  I say.  (I’m so eloquent.)  “Let me know if you need anything.”  What?  Like toilet paper. 

Another gentleman recently told me that his wife always liked it when he took my class because when he came home he wasn’t such an ass.  That day I forgot to put this on:

But I encouraged his more relaxed demeanor.  I have often said that Yoga makes me nicer.  I guess it isn’t just me.  I love Yoga.  Together we can change the world and save all kinds of relationships.  Yes, Yoga is a serious pursuit and a life altering discipline but we’d be lying if we said we didn’t laugh every now and then in the mix of it.  I have experienced wardrobe malfunctions that my class was nice enough to ignore (TWSS), butchered sanskrit, and waxed poetic that makes no sense to anyone but me.  My students are patient and loving toward me and I am forever grateful.  Mostly all I want is the treasures of Yoga to seep into the skin, mind, perspective, heart and approach of every human on earth.  With a spiritual meal as rich as that you have to expect a little burping from your chakras, your joints, your colon – whatever is in need of flushing.  I promise you’ll feel better for it.  And have a little fun along the way.  It’s a place to just be you.

What’s your funny Yoga story?

 

5 thoughts on “The Yoga Room, a confessional

  1. Pingback: My Own « NeoBoha
  2. I cannot figure out what that is a picture of!! The thing you forgot to bring.

    You know how I feel about farts. It is hard to believe, but I have never once farted in yoga. I know you have because I have been there to witness and hear and smell.

    I wish you were closer so you could be my teacher. I bet you are incredible!!

    1. It’s a priest’s collar. Have you been to confession lately. You should say something about lying about the fart while loading your bottles. The box, right.

      Clair

  3. Haha great post again.

    I had a “sweaty palms” incident at my last class…
    it must have been nearly 30degrees with a full class so the sweat was literally pouring off us all in Ashtanga.

    Up into downward facing dog I go and ended up slowly progressing into the newly thought out “belly plank”.

    Laughing even now at how the whole slide happened so slowly…but there wasn’t a darn thing I could do about it.

    Time for a new mat i think!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s