I admit it. I don’t yoga as much as I used to. I’ve got lots of excuses–the class is taught in a conference room in downtown city hall, on nasty-ass corporate carpeting and sometimes around furniture that can’t be moved, the teacher once took out her bad mood on my pelvis (that sounds much dirtier than it was), apparently the attractive qualities of my ass in yoga pants is too much for some people–a point which they choose to share with me and everyone else on the street at the top of their lungs–but really, it’s because my yoga teacher likes to make us do partner exercises.
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2008/01/23/partner_yoga/index.html?source=rss&aim=/mwt/feature
There are only a few people in this world who I want to touch and be touched by, and even then, not during my yoga practice. I like the personal, meditative side of yoga, where I can fall into myself a bit and relax. I don’t want to worry about if I stink or have a hangnail or how far down my shirt my “partner” can see while I’m working deeper into downward dog. And I don’t think I’m in the minority.
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July 20, 2010 at 1:23 pm »
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