Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Class #8: Hatha Flow @ The Elephant Pharmacy
Free. The classes are free. Who can say no?
They are, however, in rather cramped quarters. The teacher seems nice enough. She’s just a little plump, somewhat unusual as yoga teachers go, although I’m willing to bet that she’s had a kid recently It seems a vast majority of yoga teachers are young mothers. Perhaps it’s the schedule, flexible hours or something, but it is an alarmingly consistent trend.
We start. We are meditating a bit, in the ‘let’s talk and find our spiritual connection” part of class. She asks us to think of an Intent, perhaps someone we can send Love to.
I panic. Who do I need to send love to? I first think of my Ex, whom I sort of freaked out on via email when I thought she was dating someone else. In Love, in fact. It wasn’t my business to begin with, but I also apologized already, so no go on that.
I’ve been talking to the Zeeb* about forgiveness, and particularly wondering how I was going to forgive the administrators of Meads Mill Middle School for not intervening when I was getting called Towelhead, Gandhi-Butt-rammer, and Camel Jockey. All before 9/11! These people could see the FUTURE!! I consider them briefly, then immediately think “Fuck ‘em, I hope someone has the sense to shove a grenade up their sphincters.” Forgiveness and Love-in this case- may be a lost cause.
The clock is ticking, and since I’ve already considered my Ex, I’m stuck a little on the romantic love template, although I doubt this was what intended. We are finishing the meditation and I still haven’t chosen a Love and Intent, and I remember that the cashiers at the Pharmacy are generally pretty attractive, and so I send my Love Beam towards the front of the store and immediately feel like a dirty pervert for doing so, as if I’ve somehow become A Karmic Peeping Tom, cosmically masturbating about Chakra Porn from the 4th Dimension.
We get on with the asanas. We start with a sequence of rolling our wrists and shoulders, and it is the very same sequence as 2nd grade gym class with Mr. Johnson, albeit we are sitting down. We later do sun salutations, which I recognize from drama class freshman year of college. One thing that I’m noticing about the ‘different’ styles of Yoga is how similar they all are.
One thing clicks though- I finally get what the Flow part of Hatha Flow means. Certainly it could be attributed to the Cosmic Banana, sure, but it also means that we don’t lock into poses, so to speak. A Flow is a sequence of asanas, done fluidly from one to the next, generally in line with your own breathing. It seems obvious enough on paper, but was something I never understood entirely.
We shavasana- the corpse pose**- wherein we lie down and try not to think about Things, although she does say something about refocusing on our intent, and each sale at the front registers-each register ring- is a reminder that I’m a pervert. I do not do well with not thinking about things.
And we sit up. The teacher asks us to.
“Gather all the love that we have shared today and all the good vibes…”
Someone’s cell phone starts spitting out it’s overly cheerful ring tone, and continues to do so as we attempt to collect the good vibes-which I think is kind of neat that they are supplied for you via the Verizon Wireless network. A free class is free for a reason.
* The Zeeb, for lack of a better expanation, is a counselor I talk to, although is that and many more things, which is why I just call him the Zeeb.
** Which is a rather gruesome name for a pose.