May Disturb Some Viewers

I have surrendered to persuasive reasoning and started practicing yoga. I do this in the confines of my own home for several reasons, but mostly for one. I’m just too embarrassed to take this show on the road. Like a one legged man in an ass kicking contest, I’m woefully unsuited for this exercise. However.

There are many practitioners on YouTube more than willing to share their skills. They don’t judge, either, but chatter on about lotus position, mountain pose and downward facing dog. The trouble for me starts with the first. I find the lotus position very uncomfortable. I’m not exaggerating when I say that the moon will sink permanently into the sea before I can sit with even one foot resting on the opposite thigh. Just tucking them underneath me hurts like #$%@&*:(

“Doesn’t swearing defeat the purpose of yoga?” my husband asks from his reclined position on the sofa. “I’m finding this very relaxing and you’re ruining the moment.” It’s true that he loves the yoga teacher’s voice, her bells, the soft background music. He falls asleep, thereby accomplishing the  relaxation element of the exercise.

My main problem is my ankles. In this, I’m not alone. At least one of my sisters has mentioned the same thing. Unlike the svelt, long limbed shape of your average Yogi, we’re built like lego people. Our hips and knees are jointed, but there’s not much give anywhere else.

So when I pull my feet close, I immediately start whining. Sometimes I have to pause the show so I can prepare for the next position. I pause, and then slowly unfold, often using my hands to move my feet. “Breath into your discomfort,’ the instructor says softly. Well, I only have so much breath to go around.

My knees  have a tendency to stick up like chicken wings during the lotus position. “Just use blocks or a pillow,” a wise friend offered. It helps, but still my knees refuse to drop. “You got us into this,’ they mutter darkly, ‘and you’re going to get us out of it.’ Hence, using my hands to re-position them.

I haven’t done yoga in fifteen years. Perhaps its too little, too late, but I’ll keep at it. Who knows? One of these days, my ankles could surprise me by co-operating. My sits bones could cease hollering when I don’t use a cushion. My knees could drop into place. Or, the moon could fall into the sea. The last is mostly likely, but if the first happens, I’ll be sure to let you know.

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