Hot Yogi in the City

There are such an outstanding number of facets to yoga and the idea of trying to submerge myself in the practice has become increasingly daunting the more I read and learn about it. Laura seconds my stress when she said that when she reads Yoga Journal she feels like she needs flash cards to remember all the new terms that are stuffed into one issue (always thinking like a teacher!). I have come to terms with the fact that there is no crash course in and am taking small steps in understanding the bigger picture of the stretches and poses. I’m confident in my beginner practice and flexibility, so I decided this week to take it to a different level. I took my first bikram yoga class.

Bikram yoga is a specific yoga practice that is done is a room that is headed to 105 degrees. I did it originally because it’s the closest yoga studio to my apartment and the reviews of it rave about when it does to your body and how you sweat out toxins and stretch deeper, etc. Cut to my first class the other night. Sweet baby Shiva, this was like a 90 min tour of the 6th circle of hell (I say hell only because this type of yoga is actually very anti-yoga and goes against a lot of the core principles of the practice. More on that later) I walked in prepared for the heat and sweating but this was no normal sweating. I have run 10 miles in the middle of August through Hell, MI (literally) and I know sweating. But this, this was not normal humane sweating. This was water coming out of every pore in my body. Within 15 min I had stripped off my tank top and my sports bra was soaked through. I actually think the only thought in my brain that got me through the first half of the class was being completely enthralled with the amount of “toxin” coming out of my skin. Unfortunately, after the phenomenon of my secretions had subside, I realized with shock, that I was actually in yoga boot camp. The poses forced you to freeze your muscles for up to a minute, it was fast paced with the instructor clapping every time you had to come out of your position, always changing directions and bending at the waist. Anyone that has woken up hungover on a hot summer day knows that the last thing your body wants to do jerk up and down and side to side. After 60 min of freezing and twisting and stretching, my eyes gave up on focusing and my head went into a fog. I pride myself in all I’ve learned and am able to do in my normal yoga classes after a year of practice, but I couldn’t get through this without stopping for water after every pose and towards the end I had to skip a few, something I am never proud to do. At the end I was ready for Savasana when I can lay flat on my back and let my body unscramble and take in everything it just went through. But no, class was over abruptly. I opened my eyes and looked around as everyone was rolling up their mats and talking to their friends. Nothing like a normal class when it take you 10 min to get up and you want to stay inside your head as long as possible without talking to people. You also don’t normally look drunk as you struggle to stand, roll your mat, and make it across the room into the air conditioned lobby. I felt like I had taken a wrong turn on my way to my happyland afterwards. I wasn’t calm, I hated my body, I was a mess of sweat, I was walking down Clark St in a sports bra, all social norms out the window, and convinced I was going to have my chance run in with Johnny Depp at that moment (It’s inevitably going to happen. Someday.) I was, above all, pissed off. It shock me that something related to yoga, my release, my relaxer, my core, could mess with my emotions and my body so much. Never again, I said.

The unfortunate lesson behind this story is never buy a month-long pass to a yoga class you have never tried before. I spent $30 for an unlimited first month of classes. I had never seen such a deal for yoga classes before so I jumped at it! HA. But I had to make some good come of this experience. Asside from a newly formed try-before-you-buy philosophy, I am now determined to see where all these rave reviews of the class come from, why people are addicted to it. So I am going to continue to go to the class once or twice a week for the next month and see where my experience goes. But I am also going to get myself back into my safe haven asana yoga classes to calm my mind from this military style bikram yoga.

It means no worries, for the rest of your days!

Every person has that one school subject that they continue to have nightmares about. For some it is Math (obviously not me considering my career choices so far…), for others it is English (Sentence diagramming, anyone?), for me it is science. The only science class I could ever force myself not to doodle my way through was chemistry and that was only because it was mostly math-related chemical equations. So bare with me now as I attempt to write an educated essay on biology.

I’m working hard to open myself up to more educational entertainment outside the realm of Johnny Depps new movie and where I can get a cheap massage (New School for Massage). Since I moved into my new apartment and no longer have to live like a caveman without cable or Internet, I watch more Discovery channel (this is mostly due to Doc’s aggressive claim to the remote most nights to watch Survivorman) and check out the National Geographic’s website (amazing photography). In this month’s Vanity Fair (lots of awesome articles in December’s issue as you can tell by now) I decided to try reading an article about some bamboo plant that plagues an area of India every 50 years (“Waiting for the Plague” by Alex Shoumatoff). When after 15 min my attention had not yet been seduced by the glossy ads for Bottega Venetta and Prada, I knew I was going to have to share this event with you. So lets take a moment to acknowledge the fact that Jen actually has some substance to her beyond her desire to live in a high-rise loft downtown and becoming a close and personal friend of Ashley Olsen…….Thank you. Now back to the bamboo (PS – did you know Big Boi from Outkast named his kid Bamboo? Reason #12,634,757 Outkast is wicked cool)

So there is a region in India called Mizoram where their main material for sustaining their lifestyle is the bamboo that grows in droves in the area. Once ever 48-50 years the bamboo flowers and grows fruit, after the fruit is picked the bamboo dies and regrows over the next few years. But the people of the area are plagued by rats during the time that the bamboo flowers, as the rats feed on the fruit. The people call this plague “mautam”. This puts the people in a battle for food, and consequently life, with rats. It also spawns the population of the rats. This is because normally adult rats eat their young. Sounds traumatic but it’s for survival due to the lack of what it is rats usually eat in the area. This keeps the rat population low and under control. But when the bamboo flowers and produces the fruit, the rats no longer have to have a feast of babies, but of fruit. This leaves the people of Mizoram in a state of desperation, with the bamboo dead and the rats attacking the fruit, they have no food to survive the following years until the new bamboo grows again. The people of Mizoram are in constant contest with the rats. Even when the bamboo is dormant (not producing the fruit), they spend most of their time learning about rats and planning for the next war to rage. Adding to this amazing and unbelievable account of what really happens in the world outside the urban jungle, in the real jungle, is the fact that the area Mizoram is one of the most secluded and hardest to reach corners of the world. They are a group far from the domestication and westernization of most of the world. I’m not exaggerating when I say their lives are sustained on bamboo. The author lists tables, barrels, houses, toys, all created from bamboo. They use the edible part (unscientific and I don’t have the article in front of me right now. Deal with it.) for the main portion of their diets. I feel like there is hope that the modernization and destruction of the environment will not overwhelm the whole planet when I hear about places like this that still survive without all the hoo haa of developed countries and Tyra Banks. The article notes that this circle of destruction that the bamboo goes through is probably to be reborn anew, to start over, start fresh. That maybe the whole planet will be ready to brush off all the oil and gas we create someday and destroy itself to start anew. Circle of Life. Hakuna Matata.

Its far fetched I know, to say the world is going to just dissolve into dust, giving a big “ef you” to humans. But I promise the article said it much more articulately, much more realistically, much more frightening. Like I finished the article and had a sudden need to go to the botanical gardens and give them a “Thanks for everything!” card

…..I should probably make Doc do a fact check on this entry before I make a foul out of myself with this Green Love protest…..