Yoga is an interesting experience.
I have never been a very "Zen" person. In fact, I am a very high strung, irritable, constantly worried individual who can't even walk down the street without freaking out when I see a cricket ten feet ahead of me. Yoga is all about relaxing, man and just being one with the Earth. It's barefoot. It's hippy. It's emptying your mind of all of your worries and just breathing deep and being chill.
It's also contorting your body into positions you didn't think you'd ever be able to manage.
I enjoy Yoga, but some of it's finer points are lost on me.
First of all, I hate that stupid mother-fucking mirror that lines the wall in front of me. I don't know what it is about that mirror, but for some reason my hips and thighs look twice as wide as anybody else's. It's really hard to make myself look into that fucking mirror to correct myself when I don't like the reflection. And I know it's physically impossible that I really look like that compared to everyone else because I am far away from being the biggest person in that class. But it stresses me to look at that mirror. I suppose she turns the lights off to make the mirror less obvious, but it doesn't help with my neurosis. Once the thought is in there, it doesn't go away.
There's also the minor problem with the partners thing. Instructor likes to pair us up in partners for certain exercises, but she doesn't partner us up with friends in the class. She partners us up with people we don't know. This is a little difficult for me. You guys already know I'm some version of not all there. I don't like working with people I don't know. Especially when you've got to trust said stranger to not drop you on your ass or squish you flat or something. That being said, Instructor originally partnered me with the one Dude in the class.
If I've got issues with strangers, it's like ten times worse when said stranger is male.
I really tried to hide my horror, but she must have seen my face because a minute later she changed her mind and paired me with another girl. A girl who was heavier than me by about twenty pounds, but she was way preferable to the potentially dangerous and untrustworthy guy who uses a red mat with orange butterflies on it.
Instructor also has to continually correct me. No matter how many times she fixes them, my shoulders will not stay relaxed. I don't know if it's because I've got almost ten years of flute training ingrained into my shoulders, and four years of marching ingrained in my feet, or if it's because I'm just always tense about something. Instructor corrects, and corrects, and corrects, and within seconds my shoulders are hiked back up and tense. Even when I think I've kept them relaxed, I haven't.
And this whole "tree" position. You know what? I've never in my life had balance problems. I can hop on one foot in high heels and never once wobble or nearly topple over, but the second I try hiking my foot up to my thigh it's like I've got no sense of balance at all and I'm wobbling all over the place.
I do not look like a graceful tree. Even when I try my foot at calf or ankle level, I'm still wobbling.
I think Yoga is one of those things that I'm going to have to practice at home, so I have made plans with Jazz to come over tonight and work on it. The weird thing, though, is despite the problems that have presented themselves, I love Yoga. It's fun and I look forward to going back. And I feel really calm after class lets out.
Outside of the realm of Yoga, yesterday when I got home Padawan mentioned that he'd gone to his Mother's to send some information off to his new employer (five hundred dollars more a month after taxes is nothing to scoff at!) and he saw Sausage there.
I've mentioned Sausage before. He's Clueless's dog, a sweet little Corgi who is sadly overweight.
I didn't even have time to ask. Padawan had a reason to bring this up. "He's getting pretty bad."
When Clueless finally took him to the vet a couple of months ago (and it had been well over a year since his last visit), the Vet told her that he was overweight and depressed and he needed more exercise, more play time, and a stricter diet. Corgis are notorious for their tendency to be overweight. Sausage exceeds the typical level of overweight for his breed. When Padawan said, "He's getting pretty bad," he meant that he's getting worse. That Clueless is not making an effort to get him happy and healthy.
"How bad?'
"He's really lethargic. He didn't want to play or anything. He just kind of laid there."
Sausage is three years old, the same age as my loving, scatter brained Choo Choo (who's third birthday is Sunday!), and he doesn't want to play. He's a playful breed. He's supposed to run around and be silly. My dog is still like that. But he doesn't have the will? It's awful.
When we went to bed last night, I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning thinking about Sausage and his health and how it's just wrong to have a pet that you don't play with and don't walk and don't feed properly. And I'd mentioned before that I wanted to take Sausage if and when Clueless gets sent back to jail.
Well, I woke Padawan up at about 1 a.m. and I told him I still wanted to take Sausage. That it would be good for him to live with us, that with Choo Choo to play with all day, and then the two of us in the evenings and on our days off he wouldn't want for any love or attention. We could put him on a healthy diet, take care of his sadly neglected teeth, give him regular baths and heart-worm prevention, and just love and care for him the way he needs to be loved and cared for.
It's not that I think Clueless doesn't love Sausage. I think she must love him very much because he's a very sweet little dog, but she doesn't have the time or inclination to properly take care of him and he's suffering for it. He needs walks and baths and proper food and less treats and for the love of god, he needs a greenie for his teeth before the plaque takes over. Padawan and I can give him a good home.
He said he'll talk to her. I hope she either gets her butt in gear and starts taking care of him, or she sees reason.
