My Best Expression of a Pose

This semester has been particularly stressful. If I’m not writing a paper, I’m reading a book for class or working (or of course, watching TV). There have been many days where I’ve wanted to curl up into a fetal position and wish it all away. The last thing I wanted to do at the end of the day was go on a treadmill for 40 minutes. Even the mini TV screen mounted on each machine was not motivation enough to go. Instead I “opened my heart center” and decided to give yoga a try. I’m not exactly sure at what point one can start calling themselves a “yogi.” But the third class in we had a sub and she referred to all of us as such so I’ve been pondering ever since.

It’s unclear as to what kind of yoga they have us doing on the basketball court of the school gym but I’m not complaining. The class size is small, I get one-on-one instruction and I have to pay an additional $$$ for the class aside from the required semester membership. What else can I expect from a private school?
 

Today I tried a yoga class at an actual studio, my first one in NYC. Ugh, what a mess. This was the public school equivalent of yoga classes: poorly ventilated room, triple the class size and pushy people all vying for the teacher’s attention. We were forced to partner up one point. I don’t mind being touched by a teacher, but I’m not a fan of feeling any part of another student. (This is only specific to yoga, the vice versa obviously for actual school.)

Normally my favorite part of class is the end. All we have to do is lie there and close our eyes. Sometimes the teacher will feed us some new-age crap about clearing our minds and being proud of ourselves. I actually rather enjoy it, especially because no one has coo’d at me like that since I was a baby blob. The public school yoga instructor took a different approach. She couldn’t figure out the light situation so she turned the switch on and off several times possibly inducing a seizure in half the students, then told us to relax and “come inside yourself.” I think I spent the rest of the class wondering how exactly one does that, sexually speaking of course.

Namaste.