Is it just me, or does yoga make anyone else angry? Am I so tarnished from years of sarcasm (in a totally cute and lovable way) that the mere thought of yoga makes me want to punch a throat? Am I alone in this?
No, says Google. But I’m still not proud.
If you live in the LA area, as I have for close to 20 years, it’s likely you have been (or will be) sucked into a yoga class by a well-meaning friend who has found inner (insert expletive) peace.
On paper, I should really like yoga. I’m bendy, I’m fairly self-aware, I’m an introvert (INFJ) and live in my head. Heck, I even love yoga pants. I know plenty of people who view yoga as “the answer,” and I’m glad it’s helped them. Really and truly (no sarcasm, hand to God). So I tried it. And I just wanted to punch things — hard. In fact, driving home après yoga was downright dangerous, in a roadrage-y kind of way.
While I hated yoga from the start, I stuck with it. After all, I was seeking self-improvement to adios my all-American rage, irritability and stress. I wanted inner friggin’ peace too, dammit! I wanted a good stretch. But mostly, I just wanted a yoga ass.
So I kept with it. I suffered through group classes, from small, independently owned places to sleek corporate chain studios. I TRIED, y’all. Then, thinking (wrongly) that it might be the other people at fault, I shelled out the cash for weekly private sessions for a year (that yoga ass never happened, BTW). Instructor Amy, of said private yoga experiment, was lovely and by far the bright spot in the entire experience. She taught me the art of the yoga nap (yoga nidra … or is it savasana?) — and who doesn’t like naps? No one, that’s who. So here’s my favorite inappropriate guided meditation to help with your next yoga nap. (NSFW, you’ve been warned)
It’s clear now that yoga will never be my thing. So it’s not likely you’ll find me in a yoga studio ever again (yogis rejoice). You may, however, spot me at the local range, and I’ll definitely be at the mixed martial arts gym I joined about six months ago (more on that adventure later).
So here’s where I netted out: yoga may fill me with rage, but MMA is providing a very special brand of zen. Turns out that punching things is more my style after all. And yoga helped me figure it out.
So thanks yoga! Namaste.