I went to yoga class Friday evening in search of a little Zen.
The Zen apparently had better places to be, like happy hour at the Mexican pub down the street. That probably would have been a better spot for me to go looking for the calm, centered aura I so desperately craved.
For starters, my hair wouldn’t cooperate. With hair that’s almost waist-length, it’s tougher than you might think to find a good yoga hairstyle. Ponytail? It gets stuck in my armpits. Braid? My hair is too slippery and comes unraveled when I’m flopping around on the floor. Bun? Not bad until the teacher orders us onto our backs (which, sadly, is not as pornographic as it sounds) and I lie there wondering who shoved a grapefruit under my head.
On the advice of some Twitter pals, I attempted Princess Leia buns. It didn’t work out so well.
I finally gave up and headed off to class with pigtail braids. Already running late, I was forced to park my mat between an angry-looking woman and a guy who might as well have worn a T-shirt that said, “sweaty farter.”
I’m not certain which of them consumed six pounds of garlic prior to the start of class, but I can assure you it’s difficult to focus on your third eye when your first and second are watering.
Perhaps fearing my senses hadn't been adequately assaulted, sweaty farter did his part to ensure there was no risk I might slip into a serene, meditative state.
Then my feet got sweaty. Not normally a problem, except I was using a new yoga mat that wasn’t as grippy as my old one. I kept sliding into an accidental splits, then frantically over-correcting just before my crotch hit the floor.
When I wasn’t panicking about pulling a groin, I was spitting out my pigtail braids, which, predictably, had come unraveled.
Then the instructor turned off the lights. I think she was hoping to send us into calm, enlightened zone as we approached the end of class. Instead, I ended up accidentally groping the woman beside me. I couldn’t tell from her yelp which body part I grabbed, but it was a sticky one.
In the end, the distractions proved to much for me. I never achieved the Zen-like state I hoped for, though I did make up for it by treating myself to sushi and Sake afterward.
Do you have trouble with distractions pulling you out of a mental zone you’re trying desperately to reach? How do you deal with it? Please share your tricks.
Oh, and share your yoga hair ideas if you’ve got ‘em. Maybe a turban?