Yoga is my outlet. Especially nowadays because my free time is limited and I've had to narrow my choices down. I go about once a week. I wish I could go twice but I take what I can get.
My point: My one class a week is precious to me. I know, I know, yoga is all about peace, love, harmony, acceptance and anything else good and loving. And I usually leave class feeling like I want to give a big bear hug to the earth because I feel one with the universe. (It's true.)
But when something disrupts my practice, I get irritable. I mean, really irritable. Quite frankly, there is this huge internal battle going on in my head. I'm upset because this time is extremely precious to me - I am doing one of my favorite things with one of my favorite teachers in my favorite studio. It's damn near perfect. But the perfection is disrupted by a hostile invasion. Well, just about any invasion is hostile which is why I'm irritable. Anyway, the other side of me, the yogini who wants to be loving and accepting, is upset with my irritable side for being upset. I mean, how hypocritical of me! Acceptance means to be accepting of everything because aren't we all striving for the same goal? To have a beautiful moment through yoga? Isn't this a semi-public space? (Open to all but you do have to pay.) Aren't we about peace and harmony???
Let me set up the picture for you.
I try to arrive 5 to 10 minutes early because the class fills up. I'm somewhat a creature of habit and like a certain spot in the room. I also like my space. What I like about my studio, and hope doesn't change, is that there is usually enough room for everyone without having to be so close are mats touch. I don't need too much personal space but I can't have the person next to me sweat on my mat. Feel free to refer to this entry if you need a refresher about my feelings on bodily fluids. I also like being close to the mirror so I can check if my alignment or poses are off. I know, I know, some yoga buffs think mirrors are for vanity and maybe they are but I think they're great for self-correcting, too.
Anyhoo.
My instructor promptly started the class on time and three minutes into it, I see HIM walk in. Keep in mind, I wouldn't even focus on or judge him except he, in just a few seconds, will greatly affect my yoga experience. HIM. This slender, decent looking guy who strutted in the class a few minutes late. He was without a shirt and wearing tie-die snug yoga pants. Not too snug but obviously meant for some serious yoga. OK. The shirt thing - well, I do have a preconceived notion about those who come into class shirtless or wearing a sports bra (cocky moh fohs) but I try to keep it in check. My instructor taped me on the shoulder and said, "I'm sorry to interrupt you but could you make room for _____?" (I forgot his name but, to be nice, I probably wouldn't put it in this entry, anyway.)
I begrudgingly made room. As I shift over, I have an obstructed view of the mirror. Damn. Dude rolled out his mat and joined us in downward dog. I should state that he looks like a poster boy for Vegan-ism. What does that look like? Well, I know Vegans. And they don't necessarily look like Dude. But he is what I imagine a Vegan would look like. Very Berkeley-esque. Huh?? If you're a Northern Californian, I could probably stop there. But let me go into further detail for you other folks. He had rumpled hair and he was very natural looking. He kind of looked like he just rolled out of bed. Since he was shirtless, I could see that he had hair on his chest as well as his back. And the tie-dye yoga pants just sort of sealed the deal.
So he went into downward dog. I instantly smelled a smell. Not pungent but definitely body odor. If you don't know what I mean, you are blessed. It wasn't like he was homeless but I don't know when Dude took his last shower. Or perhaps he just didn't believe in deodorant. Don't get me started on the whole "believing" thing. Either you use it or you don't. There's nothing to believe in. It exists! In any case, his natural smell easily wafted over to my mat.
Awesome.
But then CHECK THIS OUT. A couple minutes later, I was accosted by the smell of spicy sausage. Wait. WHAT??? No, that must have been accident. Wait, did it just happen again?! Did someone eat a polish sausage right before class? Oh-hell-to-the-no.
Obviously it was presumptuous of me to conclude that Dude was a Vegan. I honestly don't care if you are or are not. Unless you are affecting my restaurant choices because we're eating together. But you dared to eat spicy sausage before a Yoga class and now are burping?????? You strut in late, shirtless and aromatic, force me to move my mat over and are now overwhelming my sense of smell???? How DARE YOU.
Oh yes. Dude proceeded to intermittently expel silent but deadly burps throughout the entire yoga class. I never knew when I was going to be accosted by the spicy sausage smell or the light BO smell.
Ruined. My yoga class was ruined.
The love and peace side chastised my conservative with thoughts like, "Did he ruin it or did you ruin your experience because you refused to simply ignore and move past this challenge? Maybe you're too conservative and uptight." I tried! I promise I really tried!!! I was within two feet of someone with body order and spicy sausage burps!!!!!
When I came home, The Man said he could instantly tell that something went awry in class. When I told him, he sympathized and agreed that those challenges were simply too hard to ignore.
I see the humor. Which is why I'm sharing it with you. But dammit if my yoga practice didn't get bamboozled by a hairy, unpleasant smelling, spicy sausage-lovin' yogi.
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