The Yoga Guy wasn’t married to the Yoga Gal. For the 25 years Joel and I were together, he alone was devoted to practicing but I now wish he’d left behind a mat and blanket. I have a yen to move a painting and do a headstand against a wall, in a carpeted room. My bed quilt might double as a prop but there is living alone to consider. At just 52 I don’t want to be saying, “Help me. I’ve fallen and can’t get up.” At age 2 our son Clay succeeded in dialing 911 (when there was no emergency); the Whippets at 6 probably would only lie on top of me if I fell out of an inversion into a injured state.
It’s been 10 years since I stood on my head. The perspective and experience I once enjoyed. Lately I ponder, “If I turn myself on my head, will everything else in this wackadoodle life right itself?!
About 17 years ago Joel began phasing out teaching ballet at night and on weekends to teach yoga. I appeared at the first venue wearing my publicist hat; the article published in GTR Newspapers was a very readable, humorous, good-natured account of my first yoga class.
In subsequent years I contributed by buying, washing and folding dozens of blankets and mats Joel hauled around from one class venue to another. I also was the photog for every image that appeared in his monthly newspaper column, Yoga Forms. And I gave up traveling that wasn’t to a yoga workshop or certification destination – for Joel. I had periods of showing up for class.
I was on a roll in 2000 (and last on my head) until faced with taking several weeks off from work for surgery and recovery…The good habit broke, the work ethic hit overdrive (I am Bob Medaris’ daughter). I missed classes to get ahead at work. In the end I bounced back to work 9 days out from hospital (Joel’s as good a nurse as yoga teacher) but only to sit in Swastikasana on my desk chair.
Human Nature LAX Exhibit by Annie Buckley
I’ve taken 5 yoga classes in the past 10 years- all have been this year. My sixth will be at 9:45 today at LA Fitness. Less travel would boost my monthly tally to 4 or 8, depending on whether the Sunday Yoga Guy at LA gets the rumored Friday class. Then again, a lot of crazy stuff happens in my office on Fridays…
I won’t fib. I’ve no more gotten discipline than I’ve gotten religion (decades ago I gave up mass for lent). Inversions remind me of happy days. As a child I spent a ton of time hanging upside down on monkey bars and jungle gyms. Last month on a Sunday I rushed to a beach yoga class with a college friend hooked on the experience, describing it “like church.” It was heavenly. I bent over and saw the Pacific Ocean, as the surf encircled me. Some sort of toxic bundle of stuff inside me dissipated, replaced with a joy, a calmness, a confidence.
The practice of asanas purges the body of its impurities, bringing strength, firmness, calm, and clarity of mind. BKS Iyengar.
Joel and I separated immediately after the 2009 holidays. This first round of holidays alone in a city that is still pretty new to me won’t be a picnic but I’ve got Sunday yoga and the welcome anticipation of standing on my head.
Gotta run. Find something that makes you glow and stick with it!
Until I can publish links to Joel classes in Tulsa, as well as Maridel’s classes in Springfield, may I suggest: