Since we're friends I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I do yoga. That's me whispering. It's not something I brag about or advertise to the world and I will tell you why. Not long ago I was out to dinner with some, hmm, for lack of a better word friends when one of them said and I quote "all those other new age freaks who do yoga and chant and drink their green tea infusions. I hate that crap."
Um, hello? Excuse me? I put my head down and said "I do yoga". Again, me whispering. She didn't hear me but it was then that I knew to do yoga was to know shame. Since that moment I have never breathed a word to anybody about it. I don't even know if Matt knows I do it. I know my family doesn't know. Most of my friends don't know. I'm a closet yoga do-er.
I guess there could be worse things in my closet. Alcoholism, multiple felony convictions. But probably people would understand these things. Most people don't understand yoga. It's not a religion, at least it's not to me. But I love it. I love how the slow movements and the timed breathing force my body and mind to slow down. It's Kelly time. It's one of the only things that I do that is really for me. I could tell my yoga-knocking friend that at least I'm not engaging in Miller Time. And honestly with Matt gone that seems sometimes like a more tempting option.
Yoga is not easy. It, like anything else, takes practice and much concentration. I can do a crane, a plow, a downward dog. A needle, a swan, a monkey. None of these poses look remotely like what they are called. Except corpse. You lay there like you're dead. If they were called what they really looked like, third eye where you squat down and put your hands to your forehead would be called I dropped a contact and now I'm going to pray about it because I feel really sick. Chest lift where you reach as high over your head as you can and then lean back would be called I'm trying to reach something on the highest shelf and I lost my balance and I'm falling backwards. It's really fun. You should try it!
But what to do about the yoga-haters though? I could do the yoga thing which would be acceptance and peace and love and forgiveness. I choose the other road. The next time this person decides to give me a yoga put-down, I'll just whip out a can of Warrior 2 and Pow! Take that! How about an extended triangle right in your eye! Wham! And when I was done kicking her butt, I would put my hands together and bow. Namaste.