This past Sunday evening, I received a welcome last-minute invitation to a restorative yoga class. Since I am on a quest to be more devotional about my schedule, I thought that would be a great way to ease out of the weekend and in to the upcoming week, so I went. Overall, it was pleasant and relaxing and accomplished its purpose, but we all know that nothing passes by me without a little commentary, so here it is.
The gentleman leading the class was diminuative. Now, when I say that, please understand that I say that as a person who is 5’2″, and always the shortest person in the group, and I towered over this dude. He was a sinewy little hairless creature who moved across the pergo floor with soundless, darting motions. I was stationed near the source of music, which was basically chanting with a sort of barbershop quality, ending with a do-sol-mi-do finish down to the basement, a la the Sha-Na-Na guy.
At one point during a reclining backbend, I sensed a presence and rightly assumed that Yoga Elf was standing over me, sort of straddling my head. Faced with the option of opening my eyes and confirming or not, I chose not, as to avoid possibly catching a glimpse of Yoga Elf’s special place. He bent down and rubbed my temples with what I believe was eucalyptus oil, which was fine, but this was my first time there and he didn’t ask. There is no unauthorized touching.
At the end of the class there was some “Om”ing and then came the wish for the “freedom and happiness” of all living beings. Now, I can’t think of a more shallow, bothersome pair of circumstances to wish on anyone. It took me completely out of my relaxation mode and it took all of my efforts to not invite him into a semantic conversation. But, he was there to stretch my body and not my brain, which is where I spend too much time anyway, so I’ll just stick to the breathing and leave Yoga Elf alone.