(Photo via someecards.com)
So I know that in yoga class we’re supposed to be in this uniquely supportive space for inner peace and communal consciousness. But how was I meant to attain a perfect state of well-being and spiritual insight when the obnoxious yogi next to me couldn’t stop farting in class last night?
And full-disclosure: I sweat a lot. By the end of class my eyes are usually stinging from the stream of sweat dripping down my forehead.
But I can only gather from this woman’s refusal to follow most of the instructor’s own poses (opting instead to perform her own rather ambitious routine for the whole class to see), that she was farting on purpose. That’s right, deliberately farting. You know, in order to channel the power of the “wind from within” or clean the flow of her chakra or something.
And FYI, peeps: there’s an actual “Fart Pose” in yoga calledPavanamuktasana the Wind Liberating Pose. We weren’t doing that.
Meantime, this woman’s cutthroat and needlessly competitive approach to yoga was damaging my own attempts at self-renewal… and the taste in my mouth.
The Chi Master in me says that the next time this happens I should just suck it up and channel all the negative energy into a positive outlook. I suppose breathing in someone else’s butt grease could be good for the lungs, or at least help strengthen my immune system.
But since I’m not one for following the norms of social etiquette, I’d rather just conveniently forget to brush my teeth prior to attending the next class and when she lets out a boof, take a big whiff of the air around her and say “aaaaaahhhhhh yeahhhh.” Maybe then at least we can bond before I lose consciousness and pass out on the floor.
And along those lines: Mother of god this is the most f’d up thing I’ve seen in a long time.