Tammy,

I was at a yoga class this week.  We were doing a pose which involves a lot of stretching and produces a lot of stress; well, at least in my mind.  I heard a noise that was louder than a yogi’s normal ujjayi breathing.  It was more powerful than an asthmatic dying from a wheezing attack.  It was like somebody was snoring really, really loudly; in fact, it sounded like a wildebeest was roaming around the room.  I was skeeved and my skin started to crawl.  What’s going on?  What’s the matter with this thing?  Wait a second.  Nobody brought their animal to class today.  Could a person actually sound this way?  I hope he has it checked out; if not, the next thing you know everybody will start making the loudest and strangest noises.  The type A personalities will battle to have the best yoga noise and they will be put on Yoga Journal’s website.  If the hideous noise is stopped now, an epidemic similar to the grunting in tennis will be narrowly averted.

I’m entitled to a pristine class, without revolting noises.  Isn’t that a promise in the brochure of every yoga studio?  After all, how can I practice my focus if there is something distracting me?

Gary

Tammy,

I went to my first Iyengar yoga class.

Every pose was deliberate and held for a lengthy period of time.  Blocks and belts were frequently used to help us with alignment.  In savasana we put a padded bolster under us to be gentle to the spine.

This is much different than the vinyasa flow classes where one doesn’t have time to ponder whether the alignment is right in any position.  Do the pose and if you don’t get it, on to the next pose.  Come on!  We don’t have time to wait for you.  Bolsters, blankets, and blocks.  Are you kidding?  Help?  Help?  Only the strongest make it to the advanced levels of yoga.

Maybe Iyengar wrote his legendary book Light on Yoga to let people know that one can just do yoga and have the time to get it right.  Maybe the Big I doesn’t want you sweating.  Maybe this Guruji thought Joseph Pilates was an uptight dude and yoga should be an endeavor where your body and mind become harmoniously in sync.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Last week I stubbed my toe.  It didn’t hurt, rather there was blood that took almost a week to completely scab over.  It was at the top of the captain toe so I had to wear sandals almost every day, even at work.

I went to a yoga class and after a couple of poses realized that blood would start oozing if I went any further.  I laid down on my mat and decided to start savasana fifty minutes early.  That’s what yoga has taught me.  Make an effort and if you’ve done your best but can’t complete the task, head to the mental shower for a cleansing.  Actually, I fell asleep.  Maybe I should do this in real life.  If things aren’t going well at work, go to sleep.  Problems with a relationship or friendship?  Go to sleep.  Maybe I should get a sleeping bag for my car for when my effort isn’t good enough.

Am I mistaken or does yoga promote escapism?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Recently I went to yoga class and there were people hanging out chatting before, during, and afterward.  I started to  wonder why I don’t chat with others when I go to class.

Let’s see, first, most of the students are women and they seem to know each other.  What would I say?  Where did you get those yoga pants?  That might be odd coming out of my mouth and perhaps an unintentional, unwanted, flirtatious, pre-class gesture.  During class I don’t talk with anybody but once in a great while I hear some discussions in a corner of class.  Maybe  I should flip my dog a number  of times to get over there and join the chat.  Say, this might even provide some laughter for the talkers and be a great ice breaker.  After class, I like to be in solitude in the glow of my mind cleansing; maybe I could hug everybody and we could share our sweat together.

What do you think of these ideas for a start at socializing with my fellow yogis?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

I arrived ten minutes early for class Saturday.  As I approached, I saw a woman who smiled and said, “Hi.”  I was taken back a little as the “nobody talks to strangers rule” is usually in effect here in South Florida.

I smiled back and she said, “Where is everybody?”

“It’s a holiday weekend,” I said.

From her accent I could tell she was probably European.  “What holiday?”

“Memorial Day.”

We went our separate ways and rolled out our mats.

During class, I looked up to the sky and saw a bunch of clouds.  I then noticed the blue space area between the clouds.  It seemed to form the shape of something.  I started thinking as we were holding chair pose for an extended period.  The Euro woman must have influenced my thinking because I thought I saw a boot shape, kind of like Italy.  Here I was in a yoga class, doing the chair pose and thinking of some great tortellini, pinot grigio, and a cannoli.  I guess that’s what people mean when they say yoga can be relaxing.  After a year and a half of sweating at yoga I finally experienced a relaxing moment.  Ah, but then my chair pose crumbled and I fell.

Europeans really know how to make their moments count.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Sunday night I went to the beach for a yoga class.  Isn’t that a cool way to finish a weekend?

As I was driving to the beach I could see a big black cloud just north of where our class was going to be held.  It had been raining most of the afternoon around the area.  I was really not up for muddy beach yoga.  Once I placed my mat down on the beach, I looked into the ocean and saw what looked suspicious.  It was a black object that was floating on the top of the water.  My first thought was that a whale had too much to eat and deposited his/her waste in these waters.  Yuk!  My alternative theory:  it was someone’s head that was separated from the rest of his/her decomposed body.  Where is Mariska Hargitay when you need her?  Okay so I watch of lot of Law & Order SVU and I had just seen the movie The Love Guru.  As the class started I was looking to the horizon for a focus point and saw a big grey ship.  It looked like a battle ship.

Shortly after the class started, I went into corpse pose for the rest of the class to calm my mind down and avoid the madness.  After all, how could anybody properly think about yoga with all that stuff floating in his head?

It turns out none of the concerns came to fruition.  It threatened but never rained, the black object was some sort of seaweed clumped together, and the big grey vessel was some sort of commercial ship.  It just goes to show, the mind can come up with a few ways to take something fun and relaxing and make it into something horrendous.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

In class yesterday, you asked us to get into the downward dog position with the soles of our feet up against the wall.  I’m trying to figure out why.  I know one reason is for the students to work with this sensation and feel what it is supposed to be like if there is something pushing against our soles.

Perhaps our feet against the wall is a metaphor for the pressure of life pushing against our souls.  In other words, how do we react to life?  Do we crumble over, splat, and become lame, lying face down on a mat like a drunk?  Do we just wait for someone to help us become rich in Farmville or the latest Facebook game?  Or, do we stand up and roar in lion’s pose, excited that we’re alive?  (Is there a lion’s pose?)

Does this in any way coincide with what you’re teaching or do I hallucinate from my own sweat?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Last night  I saw a hilarious movie and a few live comics; a late night full of laughs.

I arrived at the outdoor yoga class early in the morning today.  Apparently the teacher said hi to me right before the class started, but I didn’t even notice.  I must’ve been in the “yoga zone” before class even started.  How cool! I was totally focused.  No sports psychologist, astrologist, or craniologist necessary here.

During class I suddenly felt something touching me.  First I thought it was a little gecko as they run rampant here in South Florida.  Yikes!  One of those little guys crawling all over my body during downward dog would have been totally skeevy.  Then my mind went to an army of ants; nope, they race pretty fast and I would have succumbed to their full body invasion immediately.  My iliotibial (it) bands (yep, both left and right) were apparently crumbling from a life’s worth of non use when I finally realized it was the teacher.  I think she said something in yoga speak to the effect of loosen up dude, take it easy.  Be in the moment.  Enjoy!

After like sixteen months of yoga I thought I was totally relaxed and present.  Second thought, maybe you need a lot of sleep to do yoga; otherwise, stay home in shivasana.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Yesterday I ventured out for park yoga. There was a raised cement platform in a public park where the class would take place.  It was a sunny, early morning, about 75 degrees with a slight breeze; glorious yoga weather.  I arrived five minutes before the class was scheduled to start. I scanned the area to figure out where to put my mat.  In the middle were a bunch of women with purple tops on. My eyes couldn’t move away from that area for a couple of seconds.  What’s going on?  Did I miss the dress code memo?

The session started and the pace was a little slower than the intermediate, rush-into-as-many-asanas-as-you-can-do-in-an-hour.  I was able to keep up without a problem.  In the middle we got into pigeon pose.  For some reason I was able to follow the instructions and successfully achieve the pose without teacher adjustment.  My hips hurt in exactly the right place and this pain made me happy.  Previously I thought happiness was supposed to make me feel good; what is yoga doing to my sense of life’s pleasures?  After class I saw that a bird painted part of my blue car white.  I guess he/she liked my impression of his/her species.  With my new yogic fondness for discomfort, am I supposed to like the artwork or should I have done a celebratory sun salutation?  Yogic karma evidently was present later on in the day when one of my teeth provided the worst pain I’ve ever felt.  Maybe if I do the bridge pose when the dentist does my root canal I’ll enjoy this new sensation.

I may have to practice yoga a long time before I buy into its pain philosophy.

Gary

Tammy,

At work, there is a woman who goes to a yoga class from 12-1. She leaves the office and changes in the yoga studio bathroom. After class, she changes in the studio bathroom, bypasses the shower which is adjoined to same bathroom, and returns to our office in her professional clothes. She tells me that she doesn’t sweat at the yoga class and therefore she is clean. I tell her that by putting on the yoga clothes and moving around she is getting sweaty and dirty. Would you agree with me or her that she is officially less than clean and should be sent home from work by reason of being less than sanitary?

If a guy were to take his lunch hour to work out and return to work in the same clothes, without showering, he would never hear the end of it.  The Women’s Viral Guide to Hot Men would forever list him as undateable, despite how good looking he is, how much money he has, how nice he is, or even if he writes a crazy, mildly entertaining blog about, say, yoga.

Gary Kahn