Lauging Lotus Yoga

Laughing Lotus Happy Hour with Betsy

Attendees: Karen

I had some apprehension about returning to Laughing Lotus after last Friday's yoga debacle. However, I paid for two classes, so I had to use or lose my money's worth. So, I went back for the one-hour long session at 5:30 pm that Laughing Lotus (hereafter LL) likes to call, "Happy Hour." And overall...it was.

The class is Open, which also had me scared. I was very concerned I wouldn't be able to do it, or do it well. Thankfully, my fears were mostly unfounded. I decided I would work very hard to take care of my knees, and if I needed to stop, I would do so. For the most part, I had no problems. It really helps to have taken beginner yoga classes before--she had us move thru down dog, plank, cobra, warrior I, II, III and triangle poses briskly. The pace wasn't rushed, but I would have been at a loss had I not known what those poses were. I was pouring sweat by the end.

I've only been to LL twice, but I really feel that they're very pretentious about their yoga-ing (do I really need to spend $65 on the embroidered yoga pants they sell?), and I'm not keen on the pastel wall colors. And, if I may consider two a quorum, the instructors seem very into impressing people with advanced pretzel poses.

The instructor tried very hard to encourage us with idiomatic encomiums and little nuggets of "truth." Over-talking seems to be a trend at LL. They tell us to meditate, and then break the silence proclaming that we're finding our inner truth. The fascination for me is that these instructors genuinely seem to believe that they're somehow spiritually teaching us. But, trite exposition doesn't lead to enlightenment. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, experience is the great teacher. If they can be remembered, perhaps those instructors' words will gain relevance in retrospect when grounded in our life events, but superficially referring to one's inner truth does little to explain what that truth is or how to find it. Quotations from various worldly texts are charming, but real-life context is necessary if these instructors seek to truly teach.

Oh, at the end during corpse pose, the instructor unexpectedly removed my glasses, placed an eye pillow over my face and massaged my sweaty head. I was skeeved out--I don't want some eye infection from those used pillows. And did she massage other people's scalps, too??? Am I carrying their sweat?? Ewww! (Ok, so maybe I'm a hypochondriac, but I still worry I'm going to get some fungus from the yoga mats.) On one hand, the touching is the most human part of the class for me. On the other, my germophobia gets in the way.

Anyway, this class was good, but so far my favorite instructor is still Kelly at Bodhisattva Yoga one block from my apartment. She's humble, she encourages us, she makes us better. I wonder if it will always be true for me that there's no place like home.

Lauging Lotus Yoga

I Am Become Yoga, Destroyer of Knees

Attendees: Chona, Hannah, Kyung and Karen

I've heard such good things about midnight yoga that I decided to attend despite my cramps from hell. (I sort of relished the thought of a) having exercise ease my cramps and b) sticking it to the yogi Man who proclaimed that menstruating women should take it easy. F*ck that sh!t.) Thanks to my arrogance, what I discovered was a world of yoga so bruising that both my knees are covered with purple patches. A day later, I was also wondering why my large toe still hurt so much. When I took off my sock before bed, I noticed a deep bruise on the side of my left foot, not far from the place where I know my titanium screws are deeply embedded from foot surgery. I really hope I didn't do any serious damage.

So, what caused all this? Why, thank you for asking. It was caused by the latest rage in stretching: Manic Yoga. I have no idea if there is such an official appellation, but that's what I'm calling this drill sergeant and her class. She barked at us, leading us through a bunch of asanas and then had us repeat them faster and faster. Down dog! Plank! Cobra! Warrior! Rinse! Repeat! I was jumping up and slamming to the floor as I attempted to keep up.

Things were going so quickly that I'm quite sure I wasn't doing poses correctly. After an hour-and-a-half of this mania, I pretty much gave up and sat out the rest of the class. Two hours is far too long for me to be doing yoga at this point in my practice (I lose interest). Compound that with drubbing my knees into oblivion, and I had to stop. My lack of movement quickly brought me to our instructor's attention. I showed her the rapidly changing color of my beloved hinge joints, and she patted my back, saying, "Poor baby!"

I just wanted to leave, but I didn't want to abandon my friends. So, I stuck it out, hoping for some tea afterwards and the chance to bitch about how my knees would be ruined for my beach vacation in L.A. in two weeks.Nothing is as hot as a bikini with bruises.

But that's not all! I had a few other issues. The class was packed--we were all sandwiched too close togther and I nearly had my head swiped off by the overzealous woman to my right. I much prefer a small class size (under 10 people). Also, the instructor attmped to tell us what God is (the answer: the breath within the breath). I think I get it on a metaphorical level, but this really isn't useful information. Also, I'm not a huge fan of instructors trying to teach me new philosophies. I'm in this yoga game to become more flexible and help my back, shoulders and hamstrings. I'm not fond of chanting words for which I don't know the meaning. But, I know this is my own issue--I'm sure there are plenty of others who enjoy the exhortations of a well-intentioned American yogis.

As for musical accompanyment, the drummer was good, I suppose, except that I forgot he was there most of the time.

(gads, I'm really such a b!tch in this post! yikes!)

There was one upside--at the very end as we all laid in corpse pose, the instructor unexpectedly approached each one of us and gently but firmly massaged our feet. It was delicious--her strong hands! All I could think of was, "more massage, please!" and then, "Hmm...even though I hated her class, with hands like that, I'll bet this woman would be killer in bed." That's how I'm going to choose to remember her.

I'll admit that I was having hormonally-induced crabbiness before arriving, but I left feeling more stressed than when I came. This was a total yoga failure for me. Yet again, I've learned the lesson that Open yoga sessions are not for me--I'm looking for gentle stretching, not aggressive meat pounding. My knees are still burning.

Yoga Shunya

Yoga Shunya

Ahhh, good ol' JC. Nothing's better than being in Jersey City, except yoga in JC with my fellow Jerseyans, aka Debbie and Joan. From the outside, you would never know that there's a yoga studio on the block. The only way to access the studio is to stand in front of a wine bar, wait for someone to unlock the door, walk through the wine bar, and trek up the "still in construction" stairs. Next to a small front room where everyone takes off their shoes is a "closet" where you sign in, find your card in the filing box, and check off that you're taking a class. There's an aura of good faith, as a bag of money lies on the table and people pitch in to help fill out forms and collect money.

With the usual Ohm chants came some off-key vociferousness from a man next to Joan. Sitting behind Deb, I was in full view of her reaction to his unusual sounds. I had a hard time keeping it together while watching Deb put her head in her hands and laugh underneath her breath. As my body convulsed from laughter, Joan poked me in my arm to further denounce my immaturity.

The instructor was one of the best I had experienced, giving full detailed instructions on each pose. "Hold your backs long, shoulders back, eyes forward, keep your toes active, and line up your shins with the thighs." Raising my hand when the instructor asked who's a beginner or new to the studio was the best initiative I've taken in years. He corrected my poses, helped with harder ones, and provided lots of encouragement. I really loved the attention and plan to declare that I'm a beginner to all yoga instructors in the future. Got a problem with that?