Monday, October 22, 2007
So, the yoga practice continues. I'm totally addicted to the "Hot Yoga", where the humidifiers are cranked up to 95-105 degrees for the duration. While I don't have any nicotine or alcohol to detox from my body, I can almost feel the coffee sweating out of me in Venti-sized drops.
That second picture up above is something I haven't dared to try yet: Pilates. Looks too much like medieval torture. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that woman's foot chained up over her head? I'm envisioning some Pilates teacher with leeches descending on her.
No, I kid the Pilates people. I'm just having a hard enough time getting the hang of Yoga. Pilates is supposedly even harder.
I will say if you've ever thought of trying yoga, Decatur Yoga and Pilates (www.decaturhotyoga.com) is a great place. Very inviting, non-judgmental, practical and supportive.
I looked online for a place to practice and there was one place outside Decatur that offered early AM "Men's Nude Yoga". Ew. I can't say it enough. Ew.
Again, I say: Ew.
At Decatur Hot Yoga, the most you'll bare is your feet, and they are all really nice folks.
Suffice to say, I'm gonna try to keep doing this through the winter, when daily runs become a tad too frigid. Expect periodic updates,and hopefully news of marked improvements.
Maybe I'll even get brave enough to visit the Pilates Dungeon.
Wow...that was a stretch for a Dalai Lama pun, huh? But, I do have to put out some karmic regret that I didn't get to go see His Holiness at Centennial Park today. I had hoped to be there to hear his presentation, but aside from the rain and a full work load, it's also the only night we get to have at home as a family, what with Wendy's totally ridiculous rehearsal schedule this month for her show.
I was really torn about whether to just leave the family to their own devices and go to see the Dalai Lama or to stay home and I remembered what may be my favorite Buddhist parable, which gave me my answer:
A young man was seeking a spiritual leader, and traveled on foot to the top of a steep, cold mountain to find Jaya, a great female shaman. When he finally arrived at the gate to Jaya's complex, he was told by an attendant to wait in the shrine room for her to arrive. After an hour, he confessed he needed to go to the bathroom. The attendant told him he had to stay put. Another hour passed. He asked again. No dice. Another hour, then finally when denied access to a restroom, the young man aimed at the corner of the shrine room and began to pee.
The attendant grabbed him and started to drag him out of the complex. "HOw dare you!" shouted the attendant, "This is a holy room!"
"You show me a place that isn't holy and I'll pee there!" replied the young man.
Suddenly a voice was heard from the next room: "He stays". It was Jaya.
So, what's the point? Not that I'm gonna stay home and pee in the corner. Instead, I could travel across town on MARTA to see the Dalai Lama, or I could spend an evening at home with my wife and kids. Which place is holier? Yep...
And I bet the Dalai Lama would agree. I'll ask him at our next poker game.
If he's so enlightened, why does he owe me 62 bucks? There's a Zen koan for ya.