“Let’s just sit and meditate for a few minutes until everyone arrives,” said my yoga teacher yesterday. A few more people straggled in; I tried not to wish I had a wall to slouch against.
“Okay,” said Lawrence-call-me-Lar, “let’s begin. First of all, I always teach with all the lights off” (turns off the lights in the windowless little yogabasement) “because yoga is not a competitive sport. Although sometimes it is. Second, I’d like you all to get hold of a copy of Yoga: The Spirit of Union. Now, this is a book I wrote, blah blah justification of pointless purchase, blah blah I want all you young things to see pictures of me wearing spandex and an uncomfortable position when I was in my thirties, blah blah celestial universe blah. Yoga is very healthy for you. Please disregard the fanatic gleam in my eye – I’m just eager for the moment when I can come up behind you to correct your position. In the dark. When your eyes are closed.
“Now let’s all close our eyes again…”