I consider myself a yogi. Not a “look at me doing dancer’s pose on the top of Mount McKinley. I not only have the stamina to hike myself up what is essentially a cliff but I can also stand on said cliff on one leg while maintaining my impressive flexibility!” yogi, but definitely a ujjayi breathing, chakra focused yogi. Look it up. I digress.
About 3/4 of the way through class last night, my wonderful yoga teacher stated the infamous question that is never posed as an actual question, in any yoga class — “Now, I will give everyone time to work on their inversions. Or, you can take childs pose.” Mind races. Okay, seriously, Lisa? If I don’t take an inversion the 19-year-old skinny little bitch next to me (tall, blonde, beautiful, probably a volleyball player. I always wanted to be a volleyball player) will make me look like a total doofus. I may be pushing 26 but I still look like I could romp with her little sorority friends. Right!? [Cue the Sarah McLaughlan theme song that has become the melody to my quarter life crisis.]
Okay, Laurel, stop. This is your quarter life crisis talking. What do you have to prove to anyone? Plus, why on earth would you want to be in college again? Do you not remember the nights you couldn’t even wash your face before bed because you had totally lost your marbles (and your purse, your keys, maybe your phone)? Would you wish upon your today-self the hangovers you once had to endure? Those dream crushing hangovers that even just thinking about cast a dark cloud over your soul? Okay, dial back the drama — that Sarah McLaughlin reference clearly sent you on a tailspin. But, really, who actually cares?
That lead me to thinking about my resolution for 2015. I was going to write some fluffy post about giving myself the freedom to do whatever in the moment makes me feel most fulfilled. Then I realized that I’m not fluffy, and as hard as I may try to be a little softer around the edges, the look just doesn’t suit me. Like bows. I will never be able to pull off bows (not that I care to but, you get the idea). Again, I digress. This decision I had to make in yoga is the PERFECT metaphor for my mental state in 2015. What is it, you ask? “Hell yes I’ll take childs pose!” There. IDGAF and I am taking child’s pose — in yoga and in life.
Because, really, I need to stop trying to be everything to everyone and, instead, be everything to myself. Isn’t the point of yoga to manifest presence in your own individual practice and, above all else, listen to your body? Shouldn’t life follow the same tune? I should do things when I want to do them, and don’t do them when I don’t. So simple, yet so difficult to put into practice. Now, imagine this bad boy in action:
Alex: Babe, do you want to go to dinner with [insert person #1 I don’t know] and [insert person #2 I don’t know] on Friday? Honestly, I don’t really want to go so wouldn’t blame you if you don’t want to come.
Laurel (2014): Sure! Let’s do it.
Laurel (2015): Ya know… I’m gonna take childs pose on that one.