Skip to main content

David Sedaris: Yoga Instructor

As I mentioned previously, Roger and I recently joined the local YMCA.  Our primary impetus was access to exercise equipment so that Roger could rehab from his recent knee surgery.  It has been a good investment, though.  I'm certainly not averse to exercise. I just have trouble making time for it with everything else going on in my life.  It almost always shoots to the bottom of the priority list. 

Now I have no excuse.

Generally, I don't do a lot of group exercise. On any given day that I visit the Y, I like to get about 45-60 minutes of cardio in while I read the latest selection from my local library and then do a little bit of strength training. My favorite part of joining the Y so far, though, has been regular yoga classes.  

I love yoga because everyone gets to set their own pace. The best yoga instructors know how to make adaptations for the less flexible in the class (Yep. That's me.) and, when all else fails, it's the most serene 60 minutes of my week.  There are days when I come home from work exhausted, frustrated, or completely whipped.  I have learned that while my first instinct might be to vegetate in front of TV on the couch, what I really need is yoga.  So I usually go.

The other thing I love about yoga is that it forces me out of my head.  Like improvisation, yoga requires you to be in the moment.  If you are distracted, thinking about dinner plans or your endless to-do list, or the conversation you had hours ago with your boss, you won't find your happy place.  But if you focus on your breathing and the stretch and the pattern of the Sun Salutation, pretty soon, that's all you are thinking about.  

What inevitably happens in this situation is that you focus on your instructor's voice.  It was in one of these Zen moments during yoga class recently that I realized that my yoga instructor's voice bears a striking resemblance to that of David Sedaris.  

If you don't know who David Sedaris is (or what he sounds like), you should go listen to his Santaland Diary story that is played annually on NPR.  Really. You should listen to it RIGHT NOW.

Sometimes this is the picture that
sits in my head during yoga class
Finished? Do you have a picture in your head now? Good! It is also worth noting that aside from his voice, my yoga instructor bears very little resemblance to Sedaris in looks or personality.  In fact, the juxtaposition of hearing Crumpet the Elf say, "Focus on your breath. Let your mind open as you stretch." while I am twisting into a pretzel pose often results in me stifling a giggle.  

So don't mind me, sitting in the back of your yoga class on that purple mat, laughing at what seems like nothing.  It's just me. Getting some quality Zen time with David Sedaris: Yoga Instructor.  
 

Popular posts from this blog

The Edge of Seventeen

It's that time of year when the blog musings center on my grief journey. Every year, it seems like we are busy with end-of-the-year school activities and the start of summer, planning vacations, and then (kablam)...it's almost July 9.  Grief is funny. Grief is weird. I remember very early after Charlotte died, I watched the movie Rabbit Hole.  There's an amazingly poignant scene where Nicole Kidman's character is talking with another woman who lost a child over 10 years before (played by Dianne Wiest). She talks about grief being like a brick in your pocket. It never goes away. Sometimes you can even forget it's there. But it comes back and makes its presence known from time to time. And (she says) "it's what you have of them."    I probably did not fully realize then what a powerful and true analogy that is. As time goes on, our grief changes. Yet, it is always there on the edge of things. It sits in that pocket and sometimes makes itself known.  This

The Stages of Grief: COVID Edition

It's 2020. It's almost Christmas. We're still in the middle of a pandemic. In fact, we are experiencing what appears to be an incredible surge that is exerting tremendous pressure on our healthcare and social service system. The headlines are clear: we're not done with this madness and December 31, 2020 will not magically be the "end of it".  Earlier in the year, our family thought about whether we might be able to travel at this time. We thought that maybe the curve would be flat enough that we could take a few days away from home during the Christmas holidays. We realized that the pandemic would still be happening, but with the right protections and with prolific mask usage, we could get a much-needed change of scenery. During what is now (clearly) a delusional thought process, we booked a stay in Gatlinburg, Tennessee for the week of December 19th. Spoiler alert: we canceled the trip almost two weeks ago.  Canceling this trip was not a tragedy. In fact, I

Bittersweet Sixteen

I think about Charlotte every single day. However, this time of year, I'm flooded with all kinds of memories as we commemorate the anniversary of her birth. This year feels like a bit of a milestone. Sixteen.  If cancer had not taken her life back in 2010, I have a feeling I would be planning a massive birthday celebration this year. 16 always feels like a landmark year in someone's life.  I have been thinking a great deal about the last birthday party we had for Charlotte in 2009. We didn't know it at the time, but we were halfway through her treatment journey. We had been through three major brain surgeries and a few rounds of inpatient chemotherapy. Treatments were not going well. In fact, right after her birthday, we would make the trip to Houston, Texas where we would settle in for about 10 weeks of proton beam radiation treatments and a new customized chemotherapy protocol. This was the unspoken "last chance option" to beat that aggressive brain tumor into