I. LOVE. YOGA. I have loved Yoga since the very first time I ever took a class. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was attending Hood College. It was Depression awareness week or month or something like that, and they were offering free depression screening in the large meeting room. I figured I'd take advantage of whatever mental health services they were offering and took the little survey. They told me I was depressed. Big fucking surprise assholes! Anyway, I was with a friend-- an older, tiny, soft spoken and very sweet woman who was in my biology class and she offered to bring me to her Yoga class she was enrolled in. Suck on that you bored little mediocre therapist! I flowed through the asanas with seeming ease, breathing deeper than I ever had before. That's not to say I knew what the hell I was doing, I almost fell over several times trying to crane my neck to see the instructor, or my friend so I could imitate what they were doing. The instructor came over to me while I was in Trikonasana ("triangle" pose) and admire and slightly adjust my form, asked if I had ever taken Yoga before. "No," I hissed, "Ballet" I exhaled. After wishing the class and the world my first namaste, I felt like I was high. High as a kite. Simply put, stoned
out of my gord! I don't know if it was the deep breathing, the detoxifying process of the poses themselves or both (probably both) but I felt dizzy and giddy and smiley and relaxed and cleansed and hazy all at the same time. It felt like my vision cleared; the sky was a more complex blue, and I swear I could have traced the clouds' outlines with my pinky fingernail-- thats how crisp everything was to me! Both the instructor and my friend hugged me (I'm a big fan of hugs) and graciously thanked
me for coming! It was as if they were grateful for converting me so that I could go forth and convert others.
I loved Yoga so much that at my next university I enrolled in my very own collegiate level class-- an expedited one since it was during the summer, so it was 3 hours a day, Monday through Friday, for a month. I excelled in the class (of course I got an A), I relished the opportunity to practice everyday with a respectable and knowledgeable instructor. She was hands on, which I personally like, and she encouraged and supported me, and everyone, regardless of flexibility. She helped each individual reach their fullest potential; from pushing our personal limits in each asana as well as critiquing our papers with the nitpicky finesse of an English professor (yes we had to write papers,
and report on yoga in the news and popular culture and
yes we had a textbook which I still reference to this day). She had a deep and soothing voice while she pushed us.
The yoga class on post is nothing like either of those experiences. It's like the McDonald's of Yoga. The drive-through of Yoga. The hot dog as opposed to filet mignon of Yoga. I am being harsh... it's not so bad. But the instructor herself even made mention of the fact that this class is "Not Yoga yoga, its yoga stretch". There IS a difference. Like the sauna on post, I tell myself, "It's better than nothing, right?" So I go, but there are a few things I truly do not enjoy about it.
For one, the instructor, let's call her Miss A, is not so enjoyable to be around...
je ne sais qua... She's a bitch. I'd like to say self-proclaimed; even one of the other class attendees, the only man that comes on the reg, joked about her having an attitude, "Who, you?" She didn't argue with him. She showed up late today, then practically threatened us to be ready and at attention by the time she finished setting up. She chastised people for not having materials (a strap). There are extras in the room, and she has 2 of her own to share but needs one for herself, which I understand, but she rudely remarked that "they aren't that expensive, they sell them everywhere, you should have one by now". First, you don't even
have to use the strap, it is completely optional. And clearly, someone who takes Yoga seriously enough, if they want one or feel they need one, will eventually go out and buy one for themselves. But maybe these people don't take Yoga that seriously, especially when Miss A herself down-plays the class. Maybe the $10 the strap costs is more than someone can afford on their budget-- hey we
are in a recession and some of these people have like a dozen kids, maybe they don't even have the time to hop on over to Target and pick one up. Whatever the reason, it really shouldn't matter. Personally, I don't pay to be chastised, I can call my husband for that ;-)
Another thing I don't like, and don't even comprehend, is that at the end, after Child's pose, when we should be covering ourselves up with a blanket and lying in Savasana (Corpse pose, ie the BEST part), she instead has us lie on one side in a fetal position. I am no expert, but I don't know why she does this-- it would seem to disrupt the balance we just worked so hard for. I'd stand on my damn head if she told me to and if I felt better afterwards, but every single time I rise from this position on one side, I have an instantaneous pounding headache!! It's very frustrating.
But it's better than no yoga at all....
I guess...
