The Yoga Fart

The room was packed. We were a third of the way through an eighty-minute hot yoga class. And it wasn't even while doing a pose, but while turning around to sit down on the mat and take a rest. And no, it wasn't me. But it could have been.

The woman was between me and the wall, but her mat was a few feet forward of mine, which pretty much put my face in line with her butt. Since it happened when we were sitting down to take a rest, there was no music on. The room was quiet. And it wasn't a tiny fart. It was a big one, unexpected, because when you're sitting down to rest, you have your guard down about that sort of thing. It echoed throughout the room. It was unmistakable. 

What could anyone do but continue on? Pretend it didn't happen? The next sound in the room was the instructor advising us to "Take deep, rich breaths." Being in the position I was, I didn't really want to take deep, rich breathes. "And focus on your intention." 

Focus, I thought. Focus on your intention. My intention is always the same: kindness. And that's what I focused on. I focused on sending kindness to the woman who'd let one slip. I sent kindness and love and understanding. I sent calm and peace and comfort. No one will laugh or point or think any less of her. I sent the assurance that we all experience these moments at some point, that we're all in this together. With every fiber of my sweaty being, I sent positive energy and friendship her way. I sent a reminder that yoga is not about judgement. That the mat is a safe place. And that everything is going to be okay. Because sure, it wasn't me this time. But it could have been. 

Yoga Wardrobe Malfunction

I've pretty much worn the same exercise top for the past four years. It's a gray t-shirt. Boring and old. In light of the fact that my yoga obsession has a reached a fever pitch of late, I decided to treat myself to new gear. I went to Title 9. Note: I cannot afford Title 9. I went anyway and bought four expensive tops for yoga. They are colorful and have elastic to keep parts in place. They are tank tops with cool necklines that I'm sure have fancy words to describe the cut, but I don't know what those words are. In any case, I was very excited.

I went to one of my regular classes. I arrived late and the room is small, so I was relegated to the front, right next to the teacher. We began with opening awareness and the setting of intentions. The usual drill. I felt good in my new top. I felt downright fashionable.

We stood and the heat kicked on. The room was already warm and this was not a hot yoga class. The heating system was simply malfunctioning and forcing us into a hot yoga class.

We began a standing series. We flowed. And it quickly became apparent to me that my cute little new top would not, in fact, contain my breasts. This, despite the presence of what I considered a built-in bra. They hovered dangerously close to escape during down dog, but then really threatened to break free when I came through for up dog.

This is a picture of upward facing dog. Except this woman was smart enough to secure her breasts first. 

Shit, I muttered, which completely contradicts the peace-love-free-calm-happy feeling that I strive for in yoga. I tried to discreetly tuck the girls back into place a few times. But when you're standing at the front of the class and everyone else is facing you, discretion is tricky. It simply wasn't going to work.

The heat continued to malfunction and pour into the room from a vent above me. At the same time, I admitted defeat and put on my hoodie. It was my only option, other than leave. The hood fell down over my face on every forward fold, the ridiculous amount of clothing I wore, combined with the relentless heat, made me extremely uncomfortable, which again, contradicts the whole point. But I finished the class with my boobs hidden from sight. For which I believe my classmates are truly grateful. I still love the top, and it will look great with a pair of jeans. But when it comes to yoga, I'm going with my old gray t-shirt.

You Are What You Eat (and Watch, Breathe, Hear, and Feel)

You are what you eat. We all know this to be true. If you eat healthy, you'll be healthy, and vice versa. Except for the occasional person who defies rational science and manages to break these rules.

I've found the same to be true in other things we consume. Not just food, but music, culture, images, advice. If you take in the negative, it will be nearly impossible for you not to BE negative yourself. Not that I'm in favor of turning a blind eye to the real but negative issues affecting our world, but there are a lot of needless negatives that we consume on a daily basis. In an effort not to turn into these things, here's my list of 8 damaging things I vow to eradicate from my life:

• Useless, hurtful Facebook rants that in no way instigate positive change or understanding.
• Depressing movies. I can appreciate the artistic aesthetic, but I need to consume these in moderation. Life's too short to be sad.
• Scary movies. What I said before. Life's too short to be scared.
• Music that brings me down. If it doesn't bring a smile to my face or at least a vague sense of peace, I'm skipping it.
• Talking heads. I love the band. Hate the angry political instigators.
• Gossip and Tabloids. I'm making a conscious effort to recognize these for the false and damaging things that they really are. 
• Television comas. I never wake up thinking, "Gosh, I wish I'd watched more t.v. last night." I always feel better when I've gone to bed with a book instead. 
• Couch time. A good day requires physical movement. This one's non-negotiable for me. 

Here's to more light in your life. 

New Kid on the Mat

I started yoga at a new gym. Granted, I'm no expert.

This right here...

Yeah, that's not me. I'm not even close.

But I have been doing yoga for many years. My mat shows sufficient deterioration, I can hold a pretty good dancer or camel, and my twig is nothing to sneeze at, either.

Recently I decided I wanted more yoga in my life, so I began attending classes at a new gym, to supplement the ones I already take. It's wonderful. I feel fantastic.

EXCEPT for the fact that I can't help feeling like the new kid on the mat. The new classes I attend are overcrowded and the regulars seem particularly wary of new attendees in an already cramped studio. Of course, the classes are crowded for good reason. The instructor is phenomenal. But as much as yoga involves strength and flexibility, it also involves peace and love and calm, and I'm not feeling much of those things when my classmates shoot daggers at me for adding one more body to the room.

They're not mad at me, of course. They're angry with the facility for providing its members with insufficient studio time, but they're taking it out on me. It's like being sold a ticket to a sold-out theater. It's not your neighbors fault, it's the theater's fault!! But wait... peace, love, and calm. That's better.

I spent much of the last class with someone else's shoes in my face. I was pressed up close to the wall where others had stashed their things, and by the end of the hour I'd built up a healthy resentment toward a particular pair of zebra print Danskos. (Peace love calm peace love calm)

I'm not giving up on the class. I'm going to suffer through being the new kid on the mat for as long as I have to. Most of my classmates will stay, but some will come and go, and eventually I won't be the new kid anymore. When someone else comes along to fill this role, I'm going to scoot my mat over and welcome them with a smile. And I'll sure as hell move my shoes out of the way.

10 Surprising Facts About Orgasms by Sarah Jio

I love this article by Sarah Jio in Woman's Day. It's titled 10 Surprising Facts About Orgasms. My favorite is #9, in which she discussed a woman who had an orgasm every time she used the treadmill. That would take my love of running to a whole new level.

Though now I'm always going to wonder about the women next to me on the treadmills at the gym. Does she just really enjoy working out or did she just...

The Argument for Erotica

I think that if a person wants to read a story that has sex in it, they should be permitted to do so. (I'm not going to weigh in on the porn industry because I don't work in film, I work in words). But there are those who have suggested that this is bad, implies a flaw of character or lack of moral integrity. I'm completely at a loss when confronted with this mentality.

Sex is a healthy normal part of being human. So are fantasy and imagination. I'm an adult writing for other adults. My job does not expose me to diseases or drugs. I do not force my work on other people and if they seek it out and don't like it, they are free to post an unfavorable review with an expression of their opinion.

So what's the big deal?

It's been suggested in the argument against porn, that porn creates an unrealistic and unattainable image of what sex really is or should be (again, just stating how some feel, not offering my own opinion). This thinking has been transferred to erotica, with the implication that reading erotic stories creates in women the same false image. If that's true, why stop there? Let's ban all romance writing and certainly in film we must do away with romantic comedies. We don't want people pining for the storybook ending that will never happen. We might as well take away anything that glorifies anything. The underdog team that wins the championship, the lone crusader for justice who defeats the bad guys.

This thinking becomes so muddled and illogical that I get to a point where I can't even take the naysayers seriously. I might be able to understand an argument against words on a page if those words promote hatred or bigotry. But when it comes to erotica, the goal is pleasure. A healthy and happy person can also be a sexual and imaginative one. There's nothing wrong with that.

Don't take away Grandma's erotica, it helps her sleep. 

Hot Yoga Man

I think this guy is hot. And it has nothing to do with his age, race, or muscles. It has everything to do with humor and health.

Laughter is sexy. Laughter brings balance into the otherwise serious and often heartbreaking world. I love a man who can laugh at himself and bring joy to those around him. It implies a self-assurance and innate peace that attracts one human to another.

The physicality is equally sexy, but it's not about the muscles. Sure, muscles can be a turn on, but hotter than chiseled abs is a man who works hard to take care of his body. Who invests in feeling good through movement and hard work. I find the same qualities sexy in women. It's not about the dress size, it's about honoring the amazing human form and treating it right.

There's something about this picture and the elements it combines that I find undeniably pleasing. I look at his face and wonder what he's thinking, whether it's Hurry up and take the picture or Hey, look, I'm doing it! So many yoga photos show people practicing with serious faces, because the face is supposed to be relaxed. Maybe that's why this one caught my eye. It's almost as if instead of smiling for the camera, he couldn't help but smile, even though he wasn't supposed to. Dear yoga man: in the spirit of joy and health, I salute you.

Also, here's a picture of me writing today's blog:

Just kidding. I'm not quite there. Yet. 

10 Habits of Happy Couples

I love this list of 10 habits of happy couples and felt compelled to share it. Courtesy of Psychology Today, this list includes some things that we already know, but sometimes need to be reminded of. Personally, I love the one about doing a "weather check".

Read the full article here and remember to put more love in your life.

Men Who Do Yoga Are Sexy

And here's proof:

Read this article from Victory Fitness on why you should do yoga. You'll be in good company.