Yoga for the Lazy

Armed with a desire to balance on my nose while wrapping my limbs around my torso, I set off for the local yoga studio. I wanted to prove to the teenage punk who had moved in next door that I was enlightened, too.

My devious plan was to practise my perfect poses in the garden, so the little punk would have to witness my incredible transformation into an enlightened yogi. There is nothing like being motivated by those close to you. 

When I arrived at my class, I was looking forward to achieving inner peace and claiming enlightenment ALL to MYSELF. 

Yes, it is true I have always wanted to learn to balance on my nose. But I have more than one yoga ambition.

Here below are some of the positions I intend to master, plus outfit changes. 

My favourite, but ok,  the honest truth is I just love the outfit

This is one I wish to motion master

I think this is one person, but maybe it is two

Instead, I was led through a series of animal poses. Okay, that's okay; I like animals, but I don't want to embody a cute, docile puppy dog. 

No, I want to encapsulate the essence of a roaring lion, flying eagle, or leaping stallion—something extraordinary, not the everyday normal. 

So, please come on, yoga lady, get me to my complex twist. I know I can do it. 

An adaptation of the downward dog

Here is a cat pose I would try 

Leaping upward dog pose

                                                  Or maybe the class could try this flying yoga?

When I suggested we move on to a variety of more challenging positions, the yoga lady said we needed to be initiated into yoga first before we could tackle the more challenging yoga poses. 

"Be patient," she told me sternly. "Yoga is not competitive".

She glared at me across her perfect lotus pose. I had obviously committed a yoga sin, which, from the sequence of events, I understood to be one of the following.

1. Making a suggestion

2. Not being patient

3. Being competitive

4. Wanting to do poses that weren't named after animals

I glared back at the yoga teacher across my unsymetrically crossed legs. One knee insisted on coming up to elbow level while the other rested sorely on the floor. I was as cross as my legs, I had come to class to learn yoga, not be chastised.