Day 2 - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

I am frantically running from my facial appointment to the 11am class. Like that rabbit in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, I am always running near-late. There’s something in me that gets a thrill out of the whole “Tuck and roll, 3-2-1, the bomb is ticking, the hero finally arrives to save the day” thing.

I’m pretty sure some shrink out there will some day give this a Fancy Name. For now I am partially blaming it on my Eternal Optimism with Time.

The 11:00am class is a hot yoga class, taught by a woman I’ve never met before. She puts me in front so that a brand new woman can see me. Next to me are two other girls, small, and Asian, like me. One of them is old, maybe in her 30s. She looks really serious, too serious. Or maybe her face is just like that. It’s like that quote from the movie Juno: “And I doubt she gave you the stinkeye. That's just how her face looks, you know? That's just her face.”

We go through pranayama breathing, and I’m calming down from the adrenaline rush of getting there 30 seconds before class starts. I feel victorious! I forget about Miss Stinkeye Face for a moment, and focus on my own breathing. During the balancing series, I almost faint a couple times. I could lie down, but I fight it. I hang on and keep breathing. The breath is your friend. If you have breath you are never alone. I remember reading that somewhere. I start seeing white spots. Things are blotchy. I am dizzy. In Dancer’s Pose I focus super intensely in one spot and keep kicking my feet up, up, up, and up, until I fall down. I am okay with falling out of a pose. I smile to remind my brain that it’s no big deal.

I see Miss Stinkeye Face in the mirror, and I can feel that she is trying to compete with me, to see who can hold the pose the longest. There’s this super serious look on her face. Relax! I wanted to yell at her. “Be light! Be light!” My teacher Carina at Hot Yoga of Issaquah used to say. “Keep the space between your eyebrows broad and spacious”, my teacher Amber says. I am so bothered by how serious her face was, and at one high point, I want to go over and slap her. I know, so very unyogic of me, but I’m *offended!*

God, seriously, loosen up, bitch!

I honestly think that in my mind. Yes, even the b word.

Because of how serious she looks, I want to outdo her, just to teach her a lesson. I’m younger, and more flexible, and did I mention I just got a facial? You’re never gonna catch up to me, lady. Then I think about if I would be like her one day, standing next to a younger version of myself, trying to outdo her in Dandayamana – Dhanurasana. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, lady,” I want to tell her. Yoga is not a competition. So chill it!

Oh, I know that all of this is totally in my head. This poor woman next to me is probably just trying to do her weekend yoga before her kids wake up, or whatever it is that she has to deal with. Because I am aware that I’m offended by the mere perception that she is showing off, I fear that I, too, am giving the impression that I’m showing off, so I soften my face even more, and hope that others around me aren’t having the same urge to go bitch-slap me, like I do my neighbor.

When we are done with class, I try to catch her face before she leaves. I smile at her. "Bitch better smile back at me," I think to myself. She gives a faint smile. But I will take it anyway. "That wasn't hard, was it." I feel victorious, and kinda dirty, but victorious nevertheless. I *want* people to be peaceful, and in trying to control them, I lose my own peace.