Tammy,

Today I wanted to take a mid-morning yoga class at a local gym.

I was a guest of a friend and we got to the parking lot ten minutes before the class was supposed to start.  Cars galore.  What’s with that?  Well, there was a fitness class prior to the yoga class and there are a lot of retirees in South Florida.  We had to really scurry for a parking spot.  Saying my friend was nervous as I backed up past 15 cars through the only lane of travel would be an understatement; I thought there were going to be ½ inch finger divots in the passenger door handle.  Then, as we got into the place, the previous class was letting out; within a minute the entire floor was completely covered with mats.  Are you kidding?  What’s the Sanskrit phrase for turnaround and leave?  Yep, adios before we even started a single pose.

Somehow I don’t get the idea of massive yoga classes.  They’ve had yoga classes in Times Square, the National Mall in DC, and Millennium Park in Chicago.  I’m not trying to be negative but I like to have space for my poses.  I know you’re supposed to accept your neighbor, but touch your sweaty neighbor more than once and I get a little skeeved.  I know if they touch me, I’ll be quarantined for sliminess.  Am I missing something?  In a setting where the space is filled mat to mat, can you, or any teacher, make it around to each and every person for adjustments?  Did I miss a tweet saying only yoga teachers or perfect yoga students are invited to yoga love fests?  Is there supposed to be some sort of cosmic group connection or yoga wave in the colossal sessions?  Perhaps the best person for these classes would be the shivasana robbers as they stand to make some extra loot.

Can you let me know what the appeal is to enormous yoga classes and public displays of yoga affection?

Gary Kahn

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

Tammy,

At the end of today’s class you said, “yoga is love.” It’s hard to think a couple could meet in a yoga class. The mate selection process is a little different, if not impossible, that’s for sure.

The women are all decked out in their designer yoga capri pants and matching tops with coordinated sport bras; whereas the guys are in raggy, baggy basketball shorts, tailored cut off shirts (not), and the highly erotic sweat bands. Most guys sweat like crazy so I don’t think any woman would be dreaming about an aromatically rank shower during a mating activity. In fact, one day as I was leaving class I heard one woman say that some guy was cute, but then she laughed and called him stinky dinky doo.   Somehow I don’t think that was an endearing pet name.

If a guy could get by this obstacle, what would be a great pickup line in yoga class? “You’re so hot we should do our own bikram yoga practice, just you and me.” Or, “when I meditate I only focus on you; are you thinking about me?” What about: “I love the way you pose; was that just for me?” Somehow I don’t think any woman would date such a guy. So tell me, what’s love got to do with yoga?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

In Today’s class we were doing triangle pose.  When I looked up I saw something I had never before seen in class.  Through the window I saw a red light out in the main road, at a distance.  Was it a sign that I should stop doing yoga?  Was it the Amsterdam red light district?  Tis the season so was it the ghost of Rudolph?

I bet all of your other students think the same thing upon viewing this yogic distraction, right?  On second thought, I bet all of your other students see a green light, don’t they?  They see positive things, and I, well….  Next year, if I do 10,000  downward dogs, say om in every sentence I speak, and wear only yoga clothing, will I become enlightened?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

I think something is wrong and I’m a little embarrassed to admit this to you.

In your class, I like to hear the sanskrit words you say as we go into each pose.  I don’t know what is going on but something about the language turns me on; no, not like a fetish or anything.  This language is probably thousands of years old and you probably can’t have a conversation in it.  I guess I’m an information junkie and love to store stuff, but why this outdated language?  Does yoga do this to other people?  Once in a while I think about saying padangustasana in my real, non-yoga life.  What freakish looks I would get if I actually said this to say, my mechanic.  I don’t even know what it technically means beyond being a yoga pose.  I like to try to guess the names of the poses as we go into them. What is going on?  Why does my brain want to say trikonasana?  I have no desire to be a yoga teacher; at the rate I’m learning at, that wouldn’t happen for a few light years anyway.  Is there a doctor you can recommend that would know what is going on?  I can’t be in a business meeting and all of a sudden out of my mouth rolls the word utkatasana.  What if a client does yoga and hears this oddly placed word?  I don’t think they’d find it funny for me to command that they get off their leather seats and do the chair pose for the rest of the meeting.   How about halasana (plow pose)?  They might even think I am suggesting that they do this pose so I can tie them up in some sick way, take pictures to extort them later, or to rob them.  Someone who doesn’t know yoga may think I am tripping, having a stroke, or I am terrorizing them.  Speaking of which, what if I was at the airport in front of a TSA officer?

Is this what happens to people who take yoga or have I meditated my way into a yoga form of tourette’s syndrome?  Help!  Do I need meds?  Some camomile?  A cleansing by Deepak Chopra?

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

For the second yoga class in a row, there were plenty of teachers in training to help you.  At one point you instructed the students to lie down on our backs.  The young teacher at the student next to me took this opportunity to put her foot on her student’s pelvis.  Better said, she stomped on the person’s pelvis.  Then, seeing that I was laughing, she came over and stomped on my pelvis.  She was now laughing even harder.  What’s going on?  I didn’t see any posters announcing this as sadistic yoga week.  Then again, I’m obviously not in the inner circles of yoga. Who knows?  Maybe those old guys who created yoga were tired of dealing with spoiled students and found a friendly way to take a little jack out on them.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

Today was kind of interesting at your yoga class.  As you are aware, there were enough teachers in training that pretty much each one of us students had their own.  After a while I noticed that these young, soon-to-be gurus, could have some fun of their own, at my expense.  During shoulder stand my personal teacher put her foot in my rear end.  I don’t know whether she was trying to adjust me or punish me; all the while she was smiling.  I didn’t know how to diplomatically inquire about this after class.  Should I have asked:  “What is the Sanskrit word for the old foot in the tush pose?”  Or:  “Were you just telling me I’m your bitch?”

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

At the request of one of your colleagues I went to her yoga class today.
She likes my energy and needed some teaching hours for a certification.

There was no child’s pose to start the class so I figured the young teacher forgot something.  Three minutes into the class I heard a pose called out:  crane, or maybe it was crow.  I thought, where do I put my arms and legs?  I looked at the woman next to me for a clue and she was balancing on her hands, with her legs in the air.  I once again remembered that yoga has different levels and I was way in over my basic head.

I was ready to quietly exit but my mat was nowhere near the door.  I decided to stick it out rather than take yoga’s version of the walk of shame.

Despite the teacher’s various pose commands, I frequently found myself in child’s pose.  I realized that child’s pose was for the physically incapable, the cerebrally challenged who could not figure out how to do a pose, and/or those frustrated with the whole deal.  Then I realized why yoga teachers wanted these “slow” students in the child’s pose; with your face in the ground they can’t hear you whining or crying.

I was sweating profusely over what could possibly be next.  I wiped my face and body with my white towel so much that it became discolored, thereby preventing me from using it as a surrender flag.

I am not writing from the hospital nor the grave, so do not worry.  I am simply reminded how happy I will be sharing sun salutations with you for a long time.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

I woke up this morning with a lot on my mind; the week, the obligations, the Kardashians:> NOT.

I went to the local yoga store to take your class.  At last, I realized that you had not banished me from taking your classes.  In fact, you graciously welcomed me and asked how I had been.

There were a lot of people.  The woman next to me gave me grief because I have a bigger mat than most and she claimed that I was in her space.  I was thinking:  “give me a break.  Look at all the makeup you put on for a yoga class.  Who are you trying to impress?”   Oh yeah, I had lot’s of charitable kharma this morning.

You started the class and my mind focused on the poses, stillness, and skittles.  Yeah, all the different colored mats made me think of the chewy candy.  My mind said chew on yoga and get back to why we’re here.

Eventually I focused on the poses and felt the glory of the pain during frog pose.  I was ok; it just let me know I’m alive.  As we closed with the meditation, my mind was finally relaxed and I had become more accepting of myself and others.   I even saw the beauty in the woman next to me; she was sweating so much her mat looked like a Jackson Pollock painting.

Gary Kahn

Tammy,

You’ll remember my shame caused a self-induced banishment from your classes (see previous email [post]).  Today I had a nice 15 minute time frame which you once told me would be great for starting a home yoga practice.

I brought out a mat.  Then I asked myself, ok, so how much am I going to charge myself for lessons?  I need a business plan.  Let’s see:  I have no training as a yoga teacher, I have never been to an ashram in India, and I barely know any Sanskrit.  I thought about these issues for a few minutes.  I decided to let it go and the answers would come to me when I am relaxed.   Which area of the house is the best for yoga practice?  Do I want a room with or without light?  Shivasana is great with no light but how would I do the sun salutations?  Ok, half moon pose will be my go to pose.   I thought about a mirror but then I wouldn’t be feeling the pose and I wouldn’t be in the moment.   My bell started to ring signaling that my session was over.   Gotta head to Starbucks for a soothing latte.  Home yoga is way more stressful than your studio classes.

Gary Kahn