"Leave me alone! Don't make me get up, just let me lay here." I want to whisper. But Mean Yoga Lady wants me to vacate my place on the floor to make room for the 11:30 class. With a streak of sadism that yoga instructors seem to thrive on, she had lulled us all to a semi-comatose state and now that she has us all hanging on the edge of slumber, the witch wants us to get up.
But I have to give her a bit of credit...she lulls us out of our relaxed state too. "Wiggle your little finger a bit," she suggest. "No, I don't want to," I argue with her in my mind. I'm so comfortable where I am, so relaxed, I'm not even sure I CAN will my finger to move. But I try and it works: my little finger moves. "Now wiggle the rest of your fingers, wiggle your toes, rotate your wrists" and on she goes. In just a matter of seconds, we're back on our feet, rolling up our mats, and headed to the door.
Not that I've ever, ever suffered a bout of the lazies, not ever, I say, but IF I ever find myself with a lack of general motivation I'm going to channel Mean Yoga Lady and figuratively "wiggle my little finger". If I can't face the mountain of laundry maybe I can at least carry a basket of clothes to the laundry room. And geez, once I'm there maybe I can just put it in the machine.
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