The New York trip was lovely. In sum, it was a mix of family time, good food [holy overeating/overmargarita-ing at Alma in Brooklyn], a walk in Central Park and through the farmer’s market, a trip to meet Dharma [call me a groupie, I don’t care because O.M.G. HE IS AMAZING!], a jaunt through Eataly and H&M [swoon], more family time, a broken umbrella, and general ogling of the little adorable bump in my sister-in-law’s belly. The good news: I only froze to death a few times. The bad news: I was pooped by 10 p.m. every night.
New York: 1. Amanda: 0.
That’s ok, I’m a Sox fan anyway.
Not that big of a fan.. [Good Lord, girl, that’s commitment!]
Quick! Shift your eyes here:
Mmm, he’s dreamy… [but not as dreamy as you, big guy]
Anyway, back to the trip. I found yet another pro to practicing: yoga is a coping mechanism for mass transit [and, no, I’m not suggesting you strike a yoga pose Madonna-style on your flight]. I mean, through meditation and breathing exercises, you too can survive even the most horrific situations. See, although we yogis and yoginis believe in non-violence (ahimsa) and avoidance of impurities of speech (saucha), to name a few, still, experiencing the abhorrent behavior of some people can really make you wanna
strangle lovingly embrace them. And that’s where the yoga comes in – the emotional, non-reactionary stuff we’re all supposed to practice. You know, that whole no one person is better than another and have compassion, you don’t know the life circumstances of another sort of stuff. If you want to survive the harshest of conditions, it’s pretty simple: breathe. It’s as simple as using the same breath and meditation techniques as you would during hip openers. I mean, you can’t tell me you don’t internally scream obscenities in pigeon pose [I know you do]. So next time you’re traveling or just stuck like a sardine somewhere and can’t move your asana, use the other part of your yoga that overcomes hip openers or other rough poses.
Following are examples of folks you may encounter while traveling that will provide you the opportunity to employ your yoga [caution – these scenarios will challenge even the most compassionate of souls]:
- Suspender-clad, trumpet-playing old guy on the subway who has a battery-powered boombox circa Salt-n-Peppa Era playing Sinatra to which he adds a note every 10 seconds. Emphasis on HE IS PLAYING A TRUMPET ON THE SUBWAY.
- Lady who sits so close to you on the subway that you can feel her facial mole hair [shudder]. Holey moley! [pun absolutely intended]
- Teenage field trip attendees that excitedly fan the exit door to the Staten Island Ferry open and closed en route [thanks, it wasn’t cold enough inside].
- Sidewalk dweller who, despite your numerous rejections, continues to inquire, “What are you looking for? I have what you’re looking for” [umm… you have an espresso machine hiding in that coat?].
- Bipsy and Bopsy sitting behind you on the airplane whose conversation volume increases along with their Long Island Iced Tea consumption. Conversation sounds something like this – Bipsy: “I mean, you are really like soooo pretty, like seriously I mean, you are really, really good-looking and girls are jealous of that.” Bopsy: “Omg, really? No, you are so beautiful seriouslyOMGseriously you are like soooo good-looking, girls are jealous of you too, like, whatever, let them be jealous.” Bipsy: “Yeah, screw them, they’re stupid, who cares.” Bopsy: “Yeah, like #1: I don’t care, like #2: I don’t give a shit, liiiiiiiiike #3: who cares.” [repeat].
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