NotSoZen YogaJen

Posts Tagged ‘distractions

Last fall, I went to my regular yoga studio as I always did, but one night, things were different.  There was a new teacher in town, and his name (which I am changing for the purposes of this post) was Jack.  And he was H-O-T, like in that physically perfect/underwear model/Greek god kind of way.

The next day, I was talking to my friend Sara, who has also written a blog post about this particular teacher because he really is just that good-looking.  “It was confusing,” I said.  “I didn’t like the actual class, but he’s so hot, and he put his hands on me to adjust me, and I liked that.”  He also, as Sara mentions in her blog, mmmms and hmmmms a lot during class, and he draws out words that aren’t at all sexual in a way that makes them sound totally dirty (like “luuuuunnnnnggggge”), and quite often says things about supple this and sensual that.  This cannot be a coincidence, he has got to know what he’s doing.

Ultimately, this was distracting, because it’s hard to focus on your yoga when you keep launching into spontaneous fantasies where everyone else in the room disappears and it’s just you, him, the yoga mat, and candle light, and your mind keeps screaming, Adjust ME!  Put your hands on ME!  Touch my butt!  Pleeeeeassssssssssse!

I recently took a yoga class at a different studio with a different male teacher who was hot for different reasons.  He was giving a talk at the beginning of class and I got totally absorbed in what he was saying, and all of a sudden I felt warm and gushy and fuzzy around the edges and just like, attracted to him.  Because he was all smart and knowledgeable and deep and spiritual and shit.  As if he knew that most (all?) of the women in the room were probably (definitely?) attracted to him, he led us in a mediation that instructed us to breathe from our head down to the tip of our sexual organ (1:  Coincidence?  I think not, and 2:  I found this instruction unclear, and perhaps more anatomically accessible for men?)

Anyway, suffice it to say that my yoga practice started to unravel.  This teacher was pretty aggressive with adjustments, and I found myself trying to “perform” and push myself in ways I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t imagining myself merging on a mind/body/spirit level with the teacher.  I did poses I couldn’t really do and held others for longer than I should have, and wound up tweaking my neck, shoulder, and thigh into muscle spasms.

This reminded me of a time several years ago early on in my yoga practice when I had a flirtation with a guy who used to frequently ask if he could come to yoga class with me, and once went to far as to drop down into Crow Pose to impress me.  But I never said yes to his requests because every time I thought about going to class with him, I would start to worry about what I was going to wear to that would make my arms, rack, and butt look hot, and how I couldn’t take him to one of my favorite classes because the teacher was a sexy yogini who wore low-cut tank tops and short shorts, and what if she adjusted him in upward dog and his face smooshed into her cleavage, and I wanted him checking out my rack and not hers and and and… I was filled with anxiety even just thinking about it which pretty much defeats the purpose of yoga, so the answer had to be “No.”

There are teachings that say that nothing is a distraction, that everything is grist for the mill, an opportunity to wake-up.  And for the most part, I believe this.  But if I get to choose (and I do), I’d rather take a class where I’m not attracted to a hot teacher who mentions sexual organs or mmmmmmmmmmmoans, neither of which aid in the goal of yoga – stilling the fluctuations of the mind.  And absent of these distractions, I can focus on my practice and my breath, and not on accentuating my rack or when I’m going to get my next adjustment.

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