Tammy,

As you know, I normally keep my eyes closed in yoga class.  That way I won’t feel any pressure to compare myself to my classmates.  Okay, I admit it: the real reason is that I don’t want to see the scary looks other people have when they’re looking at my poses.

At an outdoor yoga class the other day, the instructor told us to be conscious of our surroundings and that we’re trying to get back to nature.  I believe we were in Warrior II pose and then we went into side angle pose.  My arm was resting on my quad and I looked up to see the palm trees and the sky.  The other arm was trying to reach over my head toward the front of the class.  When my gaze came downward I saw the woman next to me.  One of her arms was over her head, successfully reaching forward, and the other arm was resting on her thigh.  However, at the end of the thigh-resting arm I noticed something different.  The woman had the index finger touching touching her thumb, making a circle.   I think in yoga terms you call this a mudra.  The other three fingers were all pointing in the same direction.   My eyes then gazed a little beyond the woman and I saw her shadow.  The silhouette looked like her body was in perfect alignment and yet relaxed, at peace.  I had never seen a yoga shadow before and this reflection looked like a piece of art.  The woman was in a moment of bliss and I was struggling to keep my body in this position.  Adding insult to injury, the woman was giving herself the okay sign with her hand.

After class I was thinking that I should tell this woman how beautiful her shadow looked.  I thought twice about this as I remembered that we did the same side angle pose on the other side and she must have seen my attempt.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Today I arrived about ten minutes early for your class.  I was the fourth person there.  To my surprise the three other people were guys.  I set my mat up where I usually do; this is apparently now the “men’s” side.  More people started arriving; they were women.  In fact, four women showed up and placed their mats on the opposite side of the room which was apparently the “women’s” side.  I felt like I was at a middle school dance.

One of the guys then started doing push ups.

Then you arrived and went into your normal spot, front and center.  Were you holding a battle of the sexes yoga class?  I missed that text message.

I usually have my eyes closed during class, so did the women’s side of the room laugh when any of the guys couldn’t hold the chair pose or warrior II pose for extended periods of time?    Did any of the women make any non-verbal, yogic passes at the guys to throw off our focus?  Did the women’s side become jealous because you had to spend more time adjusting the men’s side?

I had to leave right after class so what was the winner supposed to get and/or what was the losing side required to do?  Guys will not wear capri or crop pants to a yoga class.  This is a deal breaker; sorry, guys already feel weird walking out of a class carrying a yoga mat.  No way will any of us guys be getting any of those yoga tattoos on our lower backs.

So, who won?

Tammy,

You will recall I was at your yin a/k/a “happy hips” yoga class three weeks in a row.

Last night I was part of a private yoga class with my girlfriend; there was no teacher.  There was a little mood music, though I don’t know if it was technically yoga music.  We were trying out the yoga pose where you touch hips together.  Out of the blue something happened to me that I had never experienced before.  I felt a different sensation and a popping noise.  It jarred me a little and I wondered if something was wrong.  I thought I had crossed all bridges if you know what I mean.  I figured out that my hip bone had cracked, like when you crack your knuckles.

Is this the goal of the happy hips yoga class and does this sensation occur only at happy times?  I think you gave out yoga homework in the last of these classes but was this what you were talking about?

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,

Little do you know but for the past month I’ve actually been doing the homework you assigned me some fourteen months ago.  That’s right, I’m doing child’s pose every day.  Woo hoo!  I’m completing your assignment, albeit a little late.  I know you’ve given up on expecting much from me.  But come on, what do yogis say?  When an unwanted thought pops up, go back to focusing on the breath and all is good.  So, now that we’re all good, you and me, do you think you can go back and alter the grade on my report card from last year?

In class today you were walking around the room and from a distance you could see if all of the students were properly aligned and breathing the pranayamic way.  Towards the end of class, I laid on my back, with my palms face up, the back of my head on the mat.  The music was barely audible.  All of a sudden my head nodded off to the left; I came to pretty quickly.  A minute later the same thing occurred.  Shortly thereafter the class was over.  While leaving the class you asked me what was going on and I couldn’t come up with anything.  Touche was all I had.  You were just toying with me.  You knew I had actually achieved the goal of shivasana which is sleep; though mine were only two brief narcoleptic-type episodes.

Today, right before you said namaste, you gave a homework assignment.  The only time I remember you giving howework was 14 months ago.  What can I say except that I reach a colossal milestone in class and you up the ante.  Can’t I just have a post-class celebration for one moment?  I was thinking about an end zone dance in the front of the room or a shot of Cabo Wabo.  Don’t yogis get excited over their long-awaited triumphs, no matter how small?  Come on, live in the moment.  Or does the seemingly accepting yoga always have to keep bending forward without even a second of partaying?  Didn’t the creators of yoga realize that all work and no play makes a yogi convert to pilates?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

I think I may be  turning into a yogaholic.  Can you tell me if I am in need of a twelve-step flow, I mean program?  Will I need an anti-yoga intervention?  Will you be my sponsor?

I practice yoga with you once a week. I go to Barnes & Noble a couple of times a week under the pretense that I drink coffee and read the paper. Actually I read all the yoga magazines and books. I’m lucky because my B&N has the yoga section in a back corner.  When nobody’s looking and the surveillance cameras have panned by, I dream about sneaking in a vinyasa and sometimes a full sun salutation. That would be awesome.  It would be like my yoga coming out party.

It feels like I’ve worn out all the yoga dvds from the library; I believe I’m now banned from checking out any and all yoga materials. Those cretins! I think I even saw a picture of me with a diagonal red line through it at the checkout desk; they claim I recently tried to sneak out the newest yoga picture book.

I get in such a zone during yoga that my focus blocks out any portion of reality.  I don’t know what I do in this state of mind.  How can I be responsible for my actions during such enlightened flashes?  I’ve heard about the guy who was forced to wear an ankle bracelet because he called the local sports radio station 250 times requesting a yoga class be broadcast over the air.  At his restraining order hearing, I heard his lawyer argued that it was only 238 calls.  I’ve only called around 50 times, but I block my number before dialing.

When my ham strings and quads need the boost, I scan Groupon, Living Social, and even craigslist for a cheap unlimited month of yoga. Those deals are only for new customers but I convince the yoga studio owner that I am so desperate I will disavow Buddha if he/she won’t let me have the deal.  I don’t even believe in Buddha but I know I’m striking a nerve and that’s the way to get what I must have.

This Thanksgiving I will participating in a three hour yoga workshop, thereby missing my family. Somehow I think they won’t regret my annual twenty minute evaporation from the holiday dinner table. I tell them my stomach is sick, but I believe they know what I’m up to. You see, during recent desserts I heard them muttering my meditation mantra.

What do you think?  Are these normal signs of a person doing yoga or am I slipping off the yoga mat of sanity?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

I was the youngest member in tonight’s class and guess who was seeing a cardiologist for a possible sedated, invasive test, potential angioplasty, or impending heart attack?  Yep, that would be me.  Already things were a little off the yoga tree of balance.

First you had us put our butt up against the crown molding in the floorboard and our legs up the wall.  “Hold that for 2 minutes, please,” you said.  Isn’t it sweet to know that all of the blood from my legs will be draining into my ailing heart.

Next you asked us to put our butt up against the floorboard and fold our body over, with the goal being that our head touches our feet on the floor in front of us.  I don’t know how you were able to squeeze behind me so you could forcefully push my back over and my head closer to my feet.  I get it; the resulting back pain was supposed to take my mind off my allegedly faulty ticker.

How about the pose where you had us lie with our backs on the floor and our legs spread in a wide v on the wall.  I felt like a feeble boy trying to break the gender of high school cheerleaders but unable to achieve this rah rah routine.  Were you intentionally trying to destroy the male psyche and start an aortic aneurysm?

A number of times you had to step over a bunch of people and get in strange body positions to help adjust me.  All I could think the whole time was that you were going out of your way to break my heart.  I thought you liked me.

Gary Kahn

PS  The doctor said I’m fine and told me to enjoy living life.  Maybe you were sending me good karma after all.

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,

The other night in class you came over to my mat and looked at me and asked, “How did you get into that mess from what I demonstrated and described?”  You laughed at me.  I laughed at me.  Yeah, I try as hard as I can, but come on, yoga’s funny stuff.

Let’s take melting heart pose (anahatasana)?  It looks like you’re a centipede moving slowly along, with your butt in the air all the time.  Maybe it’s the new way to search for hidden coins on the beach.  Or maybe you’re trying to find a contact lense.

How about prasarita padottanasana a/k/a wide-legged forward bend.  Maybe if you’re being inducted into a college fraternity you should practice this pose.  “Thank you sir, may I have another.”  I think this pose is actually a tribute to Douglas C. Niedermeyer from Animal House.

What about mermaid, I mean fish tale pose?  If a woman ever wants her guy to feel feminine like she is, ask him to get into this dainty pose.  After the pose, trust me, the guy will be running to the doctor to check for low testosterone levels.  If he doesn’t feel that way, tell him next Halloween he’s dressing up as I Dream of Jeannie.

I laugh at this stuff and some emails may seem like I complain about various things yoga, but it’s all good fun that keeps me going back.

Cheers and I look forward to our next adventure.

Gary

Good morning Tammy,

Since I haven’t been to any of your classes this week, I decided to take my second of ten Bikram yoga classes this morning.  Despite the near death experience at my first class, I’m going again because Groupon ehounds me to see whether I’m using the Groupons I purchased.  Groupon also wants me to rate the experience at the Bikram studio; I’m in a good mood and will skip this part.  As the saying goes, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything; otherwise your next Bikram class may terminally be your last.

There is a little trepidation about going to another Bikram yoga class.  I go to your class to feel good about myself and laugh which I think is the purpose of yoga.  I think Bikram is life’s way of seeing if you have a death wish or if you really want to be alive.  There are a couple of signs indicating my first class wasn’t a comedy festival or an ecstasy party.  Nobody said hi to the teacher as she walked into class.  During the entire 90 minute class, every student had their teeth clenched; they should’ve been wearing mouth guards as they were surely grinding their teeth.  The sole positive I can relate from the class is that I was able to stay up until 2 in the morning after the class; good bye 5 Hour Energy drink.

My mind wanders who may be a good candidate for Bikram yoga.  Somebody who is waiting for a big inheritance should consider suggesting Bikram to their “loved one”; the richie may not make it out alive.  Ladies, is the love lost from your marriage and you’re thinking about divorce?  Is your hubby’s life insurance paid up?  If so, don’t even wait for his birthday, your anniversary, or the holidays, gift him some Bikram yoga classes as soon as possible.

When I go this morning, I’m going to pay special attention to the teacher’s speech at the beginning of class.  The teacher must give out a safe word like they do in BDSM sessions.  I must be able to stop the madness or get a reading of the last rites.

Bikram for breakfast is definitely the way to wake up!  NOT!

Gary Kahn