Tuesday, 25 February 2014

Do you have Ex-girlfriend Syndrome?

Back in my yoga teaching days I used to keep a journal specifically for my class. I'd write down anything from sequencing to heart theme, to alignment focus, and to self reminders such as "don't look at that woman who wears white spandex to a yoga class"... my journal was full of gems like that. Since I retired from teaching yoga, my journal was swept under the door mat like an ex-girlfriend. And like an ex-girlfriend, my journal shows up every now and then just to remind me of that period of my life.

Rewind so slightly...

Uncle Bob wasn't my real uncle. He was actually my friend's friend's uncle. I don't even know how it started but it did: he would visit us from Toronto in the summer and we'd all go for brunch with him. He was a frail little man who was full of sparks. He always ordered a glass of white wine with his breakfast which was always barely touched. It was a running joke in our annual outing.

Uncle Bob's health deteriorated in the following years, to a point where he could no longer fly because he needed an oxygen tank to breath. So my friend and I would meet for brunch with Uncle Bob's family here, and we'd literally talk and joke with him via Skype.

2011 February 28 was Uncle Bob's 80th birthday. It was also the same week of the 3A Yoga Inc. advanced intensive in Miami.

Oh shit! I mean, I really wanted to go to that advanced intensive thingy and study with the asshole guru John Sans Testicles. AND the host was none other than the princess of tasteless Crusty Nono Myass. Like seriously! How auspicious would that be, the asshole guru and the princess of tasteless in the same room!

I didn't have to make a Sophie's choice because there was only one option: I'd go to both. 

Make the choice that allows you to say "I'm glad I did", instead of "I wish I did". That's my motto. Too often you are given only one chance. Miss it and regret it.

The trip to visit Uncle Bob in Toronto did cost me extra arms and legs, but at the end it was worth it. Uncle Bob passed away shortly after. I'm glad I was part of his 80th birthday celebration.

In case you wonder, the trip to Miami turned out to be that epic trip with a local yoga teacher Miss No-forehead. You can read about it here. WARNING: I had some unkind words to say about Miss No-forehead. Some yogis are just assholes.

Fast forward...

It's been two years since the meltdown of 3A Yoga Inc. As expected the ex-girlfriends and the Vital coven angels are coming out of yin yang to make their PR rounds, and to remind the world what a bunch of boorish classy ladies they are. The asshole guru named John Sans Testicles also did an interview with some online site that nobody gives a shit about. He auspiciously told us how great his newly avant garde yoga system thing is, his bastard child 3A Yoga Inc. is really old news, his addiction to drugs and anal beads is nobody's business, it wasn't his fault that those women forced their vaginas onto him... he literally dumped 3A Yoga Inc. like he dumped the princess of tasteless Crusty Nono Myass. Ironically, Crusty is now the champion of 3A Yoga Inc, oh that poor thing...

These people are still loud and repulsive, but nobody seems to look their way any more. They have become day-old bread, a cup of lukewarm coffee filled with cigarette butts, or that dried up piece of parsley left on the dinner plate in a truck stop diner.

Fast forward...

I now have a new understanding of the power of now, thanks to that bunch of absurd, sordid and rancid has-been.

They suffer from what I call the Ex-Girlfriend Syndrome. Of course, none of that sexism thingy here, it's just a figure of speech. We all know men can act like ex-girlfriends. By ex-girlfriends I don't mean the type that has peacefully agreed to end the relationship. I'm talking about the kind that got dumped and is full of bitterness and resentment. I suppose I could say they have Aparagraha or (non)clinging issues, but don't you think the image of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction is more potent? But I digress...

We are all susceptible to ex-girlfriend syndrome. We get it when we are no longer in the now while refusing to let go. Let's face it, nobody likes getting dumped. Clinging on to the past gives us a sense of relevance. Reminiscing the past isn't a bad thing, shit, even these days I still think about my glory days as Jeff Stryker's body double. I am who I am today because of my past, but my past does not define who I am today.

Fast forward a little more...

That bunch of absurd, sordid and rancid has-been is just sad to look at now.

The princess of tasteless still relentlessly tries to remind everyone what a chirpy happy person she is, and to give invalid advice on anger management. But the very sad fact is: nobody cares. Think the level of irrelevance below "nobody gives a shit"... yeah, that really low level... she is at the level below that... simmering in her own resentful juice which in spite of her previous glorious days as her ex-employer's squeeze toy, she has become a has-been.

Her ex-employer, none other than John Sans Testicles, also suffers from ex-girlfriend syndrome. Every now and then he'd put out some media release to get people's attention, and to remind us he once was somebody relevant. He'd even throw his own bastard child 3A Yoga Inc. under the bus just to get some press.  John Sans Testicle has become that angry, bitter ex-girlfriend who indefatigably shows up on occasions, uninvited, repeatedly, like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, desperately to tell us what a divine being he is, and what a mistake we've made.

Sadly, regardless of their loud grandstanding with ponies and clowns, nobody looks. They are no longer in the now. They are wannabes at best. Whatever "good" qualities they think they possess are irrelevant: we are fresh out of fucks to give. It's beyond depressing that even though they scream and run around naked with bearskin rugs and jars of pubes, nobody seems to care any more.

When your relevance lived in the past, you belong to a museum.

We may be relevant yesterday but we could be outdated today. Everything has an expiry date. Our work is not only to take the chance NOW, but to also STAY in the NOW. Our eyes are in the front because we are supposed to look forward. How to move forward or handle the baggage we bring with... well, that's a different conversation.

For the rest, whether for or against John Sans Testicles and his coven angels, they have seemingly already moved on. It's time. But be sure we'll hear from the absurd, sordid, rancid has-beens again. They are now the dingleberries in yoga that no amount of toilet paper can get rid of. 

For me, I'll continue to be Sarcastic Yogi. You can count on it.

Be in the now. Stay relevant. Don't be a dingleberry or a bitter ex-girlfriend. 


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