I had a particularly stressful day yesterday, and I’m having a little trouble relaxing. My wife enjoys doing yoga. She says it makes her feel relaxed. I actually took a yoga class while I was in college, and had a mixed opinion about the whole process. I didn’t mind the stretching and breathing part of it. That’s fine. Stretching is a good way to relieve tension in your muscles, and some of the names of the stretching poses are pretty cool. Descriptions of certain yoga stretches, like “lion pose”, “fallen leaf”, and “tiger gets a soda from the fridge” make the whole thing pretty entertaining. All of the stretches would be done while using controlled breathing techniques. By the way, breathing is a really good for you. Just try and find healthy people who went on that whole “no breathing” diet a few years ago. Crazy diet fad morons.
I really enjoyed the whole yoga experience as far as the breathing and “moose finds a summer home” poses were concerned. What I had trouble with in my yoga class was the meditation. After a good twenty minutes of stretching, the laid-back-granola-lady yoga instructor would put on this tape with this yogi guy who would proceed to talk us through a meditation process. My previous experiences with a yogi involved rangers and picnic baskets, so imagine my surprise when this nasal-voiced guru-man starts telling me that I’m relaxing on a beach, watching the tide lazily ebbing and flowing. I really managed to get into this. I visualized myself at this wonderful beach. I’m so there. I’m happy and relaxed at the beach. I’m smelling the sea air and I’m building a sand castle just like yogi suggested I should. All is well in my meditative world…for now.
Tomorrow – Why I was asked to not return to my yoga class.