Friday, 20 March 2015

12 years a yoga slave

Some people come in our life as blessings. 
Others come in our life as lessons. 
- Mother Teresa

[Rewind a stroke and a half]

"Uranus will be sweetly angled, showering you with surprises"... yes, that was indeed my horoscope for the month of December in 2014. I felt so lucky. Uranus sweetly angled? At me? Bring on the showers with golden surprises!

That would've been a great start to a blog... but it didn't happen. Yes, I know. It's been a long time since I posted a blog. Sorry for depriving y'all of my auspiciously sinful wisdom. Mind you, not that I was short on inspiration... it's more like life got in the way, you know, like porn, masturbation, alcohol... and not in that order. But honestly, I think I am addicted to procrastination. It's delicious and I don't care if it's not conducive to my well being. Screw healthy living! I embrace my vices and porn, thank you very much.

Or perhaps procrastination has its place in the universe?

[Rewind 2.54cm]

I was just in YVR for a short visit. It was a nice break with good food and prearranged booty calls. The weather was surprisingly beautiful. I got to hang out with Wray Wray and we chatted about yoga and boys. I met Wray Wray many moons ago at a 3A yoga wicca grand gathering, and somehow we stayed in touch. And yes, we talked about all of you... well, mostly me badmouthing all of you. I am just awful and hateful that way, but do y'all expect anything less?

After we parted, I kept wondering why it took many of us so long to speak out about the asshole guru John Sans Testicles, and why so many stayed in that pile of steaming fecal matter, knowing they're in a pile of steaming fecal matter. Worse yet, why do some voluntarily keep going back for more, knowing it is a pile of steaming fecal matter?

[Rewind a whole bunch]

I went to my first yoga class 178 years ago, around the same time when Madonna went all spiritual and virginal. The class was in a gym somewhere and led by a lady who looked like Jesus with hairy pits... ok, I can't remember if she looked like Jesus or had hairy pits, but let's just go with that controversial description. Someone gave me a couple of free passes to some yoga intro thing and surely I was determined to learn how to put my legs behind my head for ventilation purposes. The "class" turned out to be a Mysore-style vinyasa inspired practice but led by a lady who looked like Jesus with hairy pits, in a corner somewhere in a gym while there was constant yapping and grunting from other people lifting weights and shit. I had no clue what a down dog was or how to float like Richard Freeman. The lady who looked like Jesus with hairy pits just walked around spewing out "up dog! down dog! jump!" and paid no attention to me who was clearly struggling. Needless to say it was an awful experience and I realized even a lady who looked like Jesus with hairy pits can be a shitty yoga teacher.

I never set foot in another yoga studio until a few years later when I met The Divine Miss N. The rest is history. I finally stopped going to her class in 2013. Before her fans, newly recruited followers, "peers" (I use that term loosely and with a ton of reservation) and such calling me angry, ungrateful, need-to-let-go and other stuff... I am not angry or ungrateful. In fact, I should've stopped going to her class a long time ago, because our relationship never was what I thought it was.

Sorry, I am not going to air any dirty laundry. I have my reasons and let's just leave it at that. But it's more interesting to explore why it took so long than why I did it. That's the real lesson here.

[Fast forward a couple of pounds]

Wow, shit just got really real for Bill Cosby. To the survivors of the 3A yoga inc. meltdown, it sounds awfully familiar. A prominent public figure who allegedly used his status to get into the pants of many. Last I checked at least 18 women came forward. You know what they say: it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, shits like a duck... I wonder if Cosby collected pubes from these women and put them in jars. Allegedly.

Similar to the 3A yoga inc. meltdown, it took the victims years before they finally spoke out. I start to see a pattern here... do you?

[Fast forward two inches]

Relationship exists in the bond amongst "things", whatever "things" might be. I will argue that relationship goes beyond an one-on-one connection... Exhibit A: Bill, Hillary, Monica and a blue dress. And we all have heard of horror stories about in-laws and such... again just to show a relationship is a lot more than an one-on-one romantic thingy.

Even when the relationship is toxic and harmful, we often choose to procrastinate and stay. Perhaps it's because we are familiar with it, despite its toxicity and ridiculousness. Or perhaps it's too frightening to rock the boat and go against the forgive-n-forget mantra. Or perhaps the notion of maintaining an illusion of harmony supersedes the need of telling the truth. Or perhaps you're stunned by the ridiculous reality and incapacitated to do what is right. Or some just need to be in a relationship, no matter how shallow or dysfunctional it is, because that's how they identify themselves. Or in my case, I was just in denial and tried to justify all the bells and whistles on a teacher who's mediocre at best.

Relationships are also emotion investment. Sometimes we want good return on our investment so badly that we choose to wait it out when things just aren't right. You try everything you can to salvage that emotion investment... because let's face it, no one would willingly invest in anything to go bankrupt. Then our ego charms in like a finance adviser... "oh, you just have to tough it out 'cos things will get better."

Too often, we subconsciously (or consciously even) make excuses for the flaws, or overlook the apparent toxicity in the relationship. I think this is why sometimes we choose to procrastinate, wait it out, hope things will fix themselves or better yet, the toxicity would disappear as if it had never existed. Let's stop blaming procrastination for our choices. We choose procrastination. It doesn't choose us.

At the end of the day, a little bit of fear, a little bit of shame, a little bit of pride and a dash of denial, we remain complacent and silent. It is not easy to let go of a relationship that we have invested time and emotion in. After all, breaking up is hard to do. In Bill Cosby's case, though the victims probably hadn't invested much time or emotion in their relationships with Cosby, they remained silent for so long likely for the same reasons.

Or perhaps I am oversimplifying things. By definition, any relationship is a big clutter of fuck. Let's not forget sometimes a relationship turns into a (bad) habit, or a responsibility, a de facto routine in life, an expectation due to loyalty... the list goes on.

So I challenge the notion of procrastination is caused by laziness, especially when I committed years to be a yoga slave. That is not laziness.

Before this blog gets overly serious... I am typing this, butt naked, balls touching the floor, and Jeff Stryker is loving himself in a different window on my computer. Hmm... Jeff Stryker...

[Rewind a little]

I went scuba diving in Mexico a few months ago. It never was my plan. I prefer to have my feet on solid ground and I am no Ryan Lochte... though I'd love to have 50 minutes alone with him and show him my 50 shades of grey... anyway, when I jumped into the open water, I panicked and wanted to get out of the water because everything felt strange and scary to me, and I didn't have Ryan Lochte to give me mouth-to-mouth in case I needed it. Then I realized it wasn't all that strange and scary and everything was going to be ok. I was right. I enjoyed the new experience so much that I decided to get certified.

Looking forward... my point is... you may feel like 50 lbs of dog shit just dumped on you when you realize your emotion investment turns out to be a dud and need to end it. Not an easy thing to do, but you are going to be ok.

Just like not having access to the internet for a day or two, you are going to be ok, too.

Nothing lasts forever, everyone dies, life goes on, plenty of fish out in the sea... you get the picture.

So you realize you are in a toxic relationship with partners, friends, work, yourself, food, porn, alcohol, jar of pubes... what are you going to do about it? Pretend everything is hunky-dory? Go back for more? Procrastinate? Renew your emotion investment plan? Do the right thing?

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