yoga yoga yoga

- the roomie.

They couldn't have picked a nicer roommate for me. Almost too nice. Kinda cheesy nice. I think he wants to play roomie - go shopping together, take turns cooking, study together, etc. Anyhow, he hails from Minnesota. I don't know much about him, but he's coming out of an almost 20 year marriage, with joint custody of 2 preteens. Substance abuse apparently was a big culprit. He seems like a really nice guy who is trying his best to get his life back together. He seems to be a good father to his children. I'm sure that we will get to know each other better with time.


- introductions.

We spent a good portion of the today passing the microphone around so that everyone single one of us could make a quick blurb about ourselves. I think we ran out of time when the mic made it half way around (reminder). There were many interesting stories (some very short, others very detailed and long) of course. Many tales of physical injuries (minor and major), acute and chronic illnesses, emotional/psychological problems, broken familial relationships, divorce, chemical dependency...you name it. Cancer, horrific car accidents involving deaths and serious injuries, scoliosis, blown knees, weight problems. It's interesting to me how some people are very quick to share the most intimate information so readily, amongst strangers. It's also interesting to me how aloof certain persons, including myself, were. Regardless, it is beyond interesting, infact amazing to think that 315 people, despite all of their (i really should say "our") independent problems and tragedies and comedies, were all generally in agreement about the helpful, positive, transformative(?) space that their yoga practice had become to occupy. Ten plus year veterans, six month veterans, medical doctors, social workers, teachers, microsoft "six figure salary" (openly stated by many people), "i sold my home to pay for this program" people, i left my family and kids behind people - all sorts of people. All somehow in some general agreement about the relationship between their well being and their yoga practice. and so began the introductions...


- medication, yoga fashion, and staying hydrated

I also got to meet the beloved of the one who sits on the throne. Since I was forthcoming with my recent hospitalization and a decent cocktail of prescriptions, I was required to speak to her. She asked about my condition, she insisted that i continue my medication. She inquired about my yoga experience. I said 2 months of her yoga and 3 months in total. However she heard "years" not "months" and proceded to ask me more or less, how the hell did you get in the program? so obviously her and the one who sits on the throne don't really pay that much attention to the actual admissions process. Despite how much both of them talk up how selective they are in their admissions process, obviously, they are not the ones selecting. Shouldn't they have known? Perhaps the duchess of the desk (the one who seems to run all the communications coming in and out of the office) and the director (the one who actually organizes and operates the actual training program) felt a soft spot for me or who knows. Anyhow, as I told the duchess and the lieutenant AND the beloved of the one who sits on the throne, I am grateful for the opportunity, regardless of how much money they charge for the opportunity. Ultimately, I am very grateful. Who can say anything about the future with any kind of certainty? But for the time being, I know that this is perhaps the best thing that I have ever done for myself. Of course this exceptional opportunity granted to me also makes me feel out of place. For example, there are two other people from Paris. One of them actually works there. He recognized me, as I recognized him, but I was invisible to him apparently. I said hello one day and he said hello. Then today, he asks me basically, "how the hell did you get into the program?" I explained, persistence. He seemed quite annoyed actually that I was there. He quickly informed me that at the Paris studio, they are VERY selective and it is VERY difficult to get a recommendation. Furthermore, that the studio would not even consider someone with less than one year of experience for a recommendation to the training program. Perhaps he was just being very informative...but in general, I have a feeling that I am undeserving of this opportunity or that I somehow don't belong there...

So all this added even more spotlight and drama to the already competetive atmosphere. I was quite anxious and a bit worried. I made myself nervous with performance anxiety. In my mind, I knew what I kept telling myself was the truth, that nothing mattered except for that I try my absolute best and was willing to accept that my best effort was all I had control of. But nonetheless, my mind was competing with other thoughts, such as: out of 315 people, I surely won't be number one, nor number 315. I guess that is normal. So when it finally came time to "do" some yoga, it got even more tense. Fancy ass yoga mats that are probably more comfortable to lay on then the futon i had been sleeping on, yoga outfits I've never seen before in every color combination you can imagine (AND I wondered if some of those outfits had to be dry cleaned, they were so elaborate there is no way you can throw them in the washer; perhaps they are handwash and air dry only, no iron), designer yoga mat bags (I swear gucci, channel, louis vouitton, etc. should make yoga mats and bags, they would make billions), strange ass warm up excersises that i've never seen before, the sea of ink on everyone's skin, although most everyone's ink is in very visible places regardless of how much or little clothing they are wearing, elaborate water bottles (apparently nalgene is not so a la mode, it's metallic containers which i swear i own one, but it is made to be a reusable liquid fuel canister for my camping burner and hydration systems and methods involving more than one bottle and insulating bottles mixing this and that (much like a chemistry class), the debates between vegans about the best protein sources (apparently soy is out, it has too many hormones that affect your health and mood), the flexible freaks showing off how freakishly flexible they are - I felt a bit out of place to say the least. I think the average yoga experience worked out to 1 to 2 years. So there I was, almost 3 months of hot yoga experience, my cheap ass floral print mat (that stinks, literally), with my cheap ass homemade yoga mat holder (I still think it's ingenious, a student did ask me if I made the mat holder and was tickled that it was homemade), my cheap ass swimming trunks, my crushed and pathetic 1.5 liter disposable water bottle (that I have been recycling and using over and over again) filled with lemon slices, a pinch of sugar and a pinch of salt (apparently that is the cheapass version of gatorade and electrolyte supplements), I felt a bit out of place. Hell, I am trying though. I am eating alfalfa sprouts, onion sprouts, green leaves, and chicken and boring healthy stuff that's cheap, and avoiding all the yummy stuff i love to eat, so no more coke and no more coffee and no more giant bowsl of cereal in bed after giant dinners, no more entire baguettes with ounces and ounces of butter and jam spread all over or croissants and pain au chocolate for breakfast. sniff.

So finally it was time for the yoga showdown. A mad dash for all premium spots (i.e. right in front of the mirror), seriously. People running and pushing and being not very nice so they could lay down there yoga mat and claim there spot. I should just fart nextime people try to take my spot. Anyhow, I did fine. I hadn't practiced for days, but i was fine. The class was not too difficult. They kept the heat down and gave us some extra long breaks inbetween several positions. But hell, I saw people who had been practicing for however many years and people with fancy ass yoga mats and elaborate water bottles and hydration methods and systems who couldn't fucking do the class. I know it's not competitive and I really don't want it to be, but it gave me some confidence and that I do indeed belong in that room. Shit, people were at the first aid table, chugging pedialyte and...I felt fine.