yoga
April 28 
The soul that moves in the world of the senses
and yet keeps the senses in harmony,
finds rest in quietness.
Bhagavad Gita
I love yoga.
Connecting and aligning the earthy minxiness of my nubile body to my magical inner self is something that brings me peace and harmony in the constant turbulence of my domestic world.
These days, however, I choose to do yoga alone.
I have my tv. I have my dvds. But more importantly, I have my privacy.
This is of incalculable importance to me, but not for the reasons you may imagine, dear reader.
I am not shy. No. I am not self conscious. Neither am I uncomfortable with my lithe and lissom frame.
It is simply that I am incredibly naughty.
Naughty to the point of foolishness.
And I simply can't help myself.
Throw me in a room with 20 other women and a downward dog and inevitably there will be biting of inner cheeks, snickering, snorting and ultimate laughter. Expulsion from the class laughter...
I have been removed from three yoga classes now. One, forcibly, two voluntarily.
I'm dangerous, you see.
The history of my inability to deal with yoga en masse has it's roots in the turbulent last year of my high school education.
It was a defining year. I was Minx Personified. Naughty, mischievous and slack as all hell. My friend J and I, anxious to avoid committment to the school in any meaningful way chose to take on Yoga as our Sport Of Choice. To hell with netball and soccer, Yoga sounded cool, laid back and a deliciously casual way to spend Thursday afternoons.
And it was all looking rather tasty until I spied within the class the image of my arch enemy. You do not want to know the name of this girl. She was vile. She was my Nemesis.
She pursued me with a puritanical vigour unheard of, relating my mischievous and brazen adventures to any one in authority who would listen, expounding my exploits with carefully chosen adjectives to enlarge my crime and render me even more distasteful to the Sisters of Mercy.
I, of course, retaliated with cruel and craftily constructed texts based predominantly on her curious penchant for savage nose picking and furious nose blowing. I distributed these widely and with a previously unknown lack of empathy.
She was a swot, she was a snot. I despised her.
I narrowed my eyes. This simply would not do.
Why was she in my yoga class?
Despite the ensuing circumstances, the sensible thing to do would have been to separate J and I long before we were ultimately expelled. We were a diabolical duo.
Dangerous and dismantling in most classes, it was a complete surprise that the Sisters of Mercy had let us enjoy the prospect of yoga together.
But no one could have foreseen what would happen next.
It was beautiful really. I couldn't have scripted it any better.
The class had gone well, pigeons had posed, dogs had downed and we all had moved onto our backs. There was stretching and there was pulling. Ahhh.
Legs were pulled across the body to the right, strreeetcchhhh,
Legs were pulled across the body to the left, streeetttccchh,
"Now girls, both legs pulled up together, up and over our heads, bottoms out, proudly, streeetccchhhhhh and -"
"tttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhpppppppp"
What the hell!
"ttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhpppp"
It was indeed the loudest, longest fart I had ever heard.
And it was coming straight from the bloomered bottom of my nemesis.
"tttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhppp"
With each movement, there was wind, long and hearty.
It was blowing a gale.
Each twitch of her presumably horrified body would release a stream of wind that escaped in Unhindered Passage from her prominently displayed bottom.
"ttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhppppp"
I looked across at J with snickers at first, gobsmacked.
Oh, there was a God.
And then there was snorting.
Shameless laughter erupted within seconds, encouraging an ensuing uproar from the group, senseless at the helplessly farting figure in their midst.
"Miss Hilton you may leave the class!" came the frantic bark from the front of the room.
"I'm sure we don't need your brand of cruelty in here."
I must disagree. Smirk.
Sometimes one has to be cruel to be karmic.
I would like to end this story here, with the long and unfettered sounds of wind emanating from the unfortunate back passage of my loathed foe who, curiously, never did stand up to me again.
But I can't.
Ten minutes later, I was subsequently re-admitted only to find my classmates lining the length of the room, standing on their heads, backs against the wall. I was expected to fall in at this point and join my buddies in their curious position, when I spied my friend J.
Had it not been for the sight of my friend's legs, things may have gone well, swimmingly even, after the previous debacle.
But J had monstrous calf muscles.
They were bold, bulbous and disproportionately large to the rest of her body. Had I not spied them, as proud as drumsticks on her up-ended, bloomered body I may have entered with some dignity, but there they were and here I was looking at her, snorting, cheeks chewing, eyes watering and she knew it.
She did what anyone else in her uncomfortable position would. She wet her pants.
Yes, she wet her pants.
There was upside down laughter, an implausible greying of the bloomers and a quick run to the door where we collapsed in hysterical and unabated laughter.
Needless to say, our presence in further classes was unwelcome after that and it was basketball until the end of term.
Subsequently, I have found it difficult to be sensible in anything from Pilates to Yoga. Perhaps it is the imminent sound of wind that will send me into hysterics.
Perhaps, and I do fear this, it is Karma.
Surely the fruits of my Karma and a good taste of my own medicine would result in something horribly embarrassing making it's escape from my own back passage, in public, unhindered.
I daren't risk it.Give me the dvd.
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Reader Comments (11)
Yoga...is freaking hard! It's a funny thing because it never, ever gets easier. You can't reach a plateau and rest on your laurels or your haunches for more than a moment before the yoga monster...um...I mean teacher...is forcing your body into positions not even found in the Kama Sutra. If we can't laugh at the ludicrous and absurd sounds that the body makes when bent like a Siamese pretzel in some crazy posture, then what on earth is the point of life?! How serious can one be, really, when in downward dog?!
I must get back to it though, it really does kick your ass and simultaneously whip it into shape.
It's a damn good thing we did not go to school together!
xox, M
No, it never seems to get easier!
One just pushes oneself harder perhaps...
I find it terribly hard to be serious in serious scenarios. I always have, and still do. I will start that whole inner snorting and exploding thing as soon as something goes awry in a contemplative group situation. As a result, I have had to remove myself from so many meetings, meditations and thought fests.
Group activities are my particular horror. I will be giggling and snorting and sending rude letters across the class within minutes. I have an enduring disrespect for authority and can't want to ridicule it almost immediately.
I am very naughty, terribly silly and most unapologetic.
It's a good thing you weren't at school with me. I would have had you expelled as well...
Although it would have been so much fun!!!
xox
You ARE a naughty minx - and so funny!!
I love a good fart joke.
It depends on which way you want to look at Karma...
I think the recipient of the wind issues got what she deserved. She sounded like a real windbag.
You may be in the clear. Maybe...
I like the idea of yoga, but I always seem to get the breathing wrong and nearly pass out. Sounds like you'd be a laugh to have in a yoga class, although probably not for the teacher ;-)
Thank you Eddie,
I love toilet humour. It's so...dirty!
Having British genes has given me a deep appreciation of the double entendre, irony and a myriad of flatulent noises, Benny Hill, Monty Python, Derek & Clive style, for starters.
I'm still watching my back.
I've given enough grief to group leaders and yoga instructors to think I'm getting out of this scot free...
Ha ha!! The breathing!! Oh, Lola, the breathing...
That was why I forcibly removed myself from the last class!!
We were encouraged to block one nostril and follow the breathing as it moved from one ear to the other (??)
At the time I had a terribly congested head and got stuck somewhere in the left ear in the mire that was my mucous membranes.
The snorting and repressed laughter had begun and this was only the beginning of the class. I happened to glance over at my friend whose lips were working, nostrils flaring, and knew I had to leave. I ran to the bathroom under pretence of incontinence and just laughed my head off, to myself. How 15!! I can't help it. I am seriously dysfunctional and horribly naughty and I'm supposed to be a grown up!!
My wonderful Minx,
You do me the greatest honor or placing yoga at the top of your blog spot and what an absolute honor that is!
In the future, I will however be unable to:
1. carry on class without bursting into uproarious laughter when and if (and the situation arises frequently) one of my students decides to really rip a good one. As an instructor it will now be a treasured flaw-- humor is an important path on your eight limbs according to many of the oldest and wisest Yogis...
and
2. If I happen to catch a glimpse of the meaty bulbous drumstick legs you so eloquently describe upended against a wall, I may well fall down in a fit of spasmic joy and and teary giggles! (I have on occasion seen such legs of this nature at the local health club- usually referred to as "calfous un-femininous" in scientific terms) I highly would suggest to the sad owner of these unsightly gams to always stick with pants!
As far as the breathing, this can be practiced by yourself (or with someone you love or even lust)... preferably the latter of the two.
I am forever in your debt for the link up and will send anyone visiting my quiet world of yoga to your lusty parlour for pure and perfect entertainment!
much thanks... huzzah and well done- I only hope that my writing skills will vastly improve with a daily dose of the expertly writing style of the beautiful ms minx!
OM .... kk
My pleasure most certainly Kimmy Kat!!
You add a deliciously transcendental dimension to my boudoir and I am proud to have you in my parlour! If I add a bit of bold and bawdy humour to your day it is a fait accompli!!
I really don't know how you keep a straight face in your classes! I would be in fits of laughter within minutes - especially if there were any wind issues - even if there weren't...people make me laugh.
We are a funny lot aren't we!!
Om and Namaste my friend,
xox
I KNEW the fart was coming....
OMG Yoga is so hard! I've been doing the DVDs off www.mindandbodyworkout.net and they are kickin my ass! But it is definitely helping me in bed! So for that, I thank you Yoga Masters!
Mmmm, I might have a look at those...
I like to kick my own ass! It certainly whips it into shape for those other delicious activities...
Thanks for dropping by Kinky x