Downward Dog

I was pleased to find out that the yoga class was in the other church hall – not the hall of the church I have stopped going to. (I really just wanted to sing ‘How Great Thou Art’ once a week and try and put myself into a spiritual zone. I didn’t want to join the 5 a side team or go on long walks in the country.)

It had been a squeeze when the class was held in the local gym – the clank of the free weights and the sound of MTV had rattled my karma.

I was pleased to see more men at the new class. I was even more pleased to see that they were older than me and that the teacher had to give them special attention and kind words of encouragement.

I usually get near the front of the class, so that I don’t have to peer out past somebody’s rear-end to see what the teacher is demonstrating.  The ‘Downward Dog’ position is then useful – as I can look back through my legs to see the older guys struggling. This heartens me. 

I’m not proud of this.

I was the same during my finals at university. I went into a ‘History of Ideas’ paper with little preparation – but when the young man beside me burst into tears half-way through the allotted time I found myself perversely inspired. Using the few quotes I could recall from ‘Freud Made Simple’, I was able to spin out my thoughts onto several supplementary sheets.

The yoga teacher is a better person. With an expression that showed genuine concern, she uttered words that caressed the strugglers and put me to shame: 

‘Just do what you can. Remember – every snowflake is different.’