Thursday, November 15, 2012
my yoga instructor is a mind reader
My yoga instructor looks a lot to me like my brother-in-law Joe, who is married to Sister-in-law M (not to be confused with Madelyn). Mostly because of the features on his face and the way he moves his mouth and tilts his head when he's thinking about what he's going to say next and the color of his hair and the way he gestures with his hands. Granted, people often do not agree with me when I say a person looks like somebody else, but it doesn't matter because that is how I see it. And that is why, in my head, I call him "Faux-Joe" even though I know his name is Paul.
Anyway, Faux-Joe has this creepy way of saying things that mirror my thoughts--in real time--such as "Even if you have an itch, try your best to stay still" just as I was contemplating scratching my neck, or "don't get distracted by adjusting your clothing. That is not important" as I'm about to pull down the back of my shirt before everyone behind me gets a look at the waistband of my undies. One time I was in final relaxation (where you lie on your back and are not supposed to move at all), but I was absolutely fuming about something from earlier. Everyone was silent, and I know I wasn't making any noise except screaming in my head what I *should* have said to the person who made me mad. Faux-Joe comes to stand over me, picks up one arm at a time, shakes it around, replaces it on the floor, then adjusts my neck and pushes on my shoulders, leans down and whispers kind of sternly, "RELAX!"
That freaked me out a bit.
See, I have this thing where sometimes I'm in a crowded elevator or a train having a judge-y or nasty thought about someone and think to myself, "Self, just watch, that is the one person in the world who can read your mind, and she just heard you think she has the ugliest haircut you've ever seen. Don't you feel bad?" Maybe it's some kind of self-policing to keep my thoughts in check.
So of course I've decided Faux-Joe can hear what I'm thinking. I've been in his class for almost a year now, and I am used to his routine, so I don't have to concentrate as hard to keep up with what's next. But he still calls me out on mind-wandering and hair fixing. You know, generally, to the whole class. This is going to sound bizarre, but sometimes I think things like, "Faux-Joe, what is wrong with you? You have been losing a lot of weight. You are disappearing. I hope you don't have a serious illness." Or "Faux-Joe, where were you last week? That replacement lady was way too New-Agey and she wore a headset."
Faux-Joe never lets on that he can read my thoughts. He is that good. But sending telepathic messages helps distract me from calculating how little a cushion my yoga mat will be when I fall down on my face if we don't come out of this pose soon.
As you can see, poses I can pull off. It's the quieting of the mind that has always been tricky.
speaking of instructors,
more than conjugation
In which I learned more than just grammar from my continuing education Spanish teacher.