Bhuja schmuja

Yoga tonight.

A Mysore style “self practice” session.

Which means working through a series of postures in your own time, receiving help and adjustments from the teacher as and when you need them.

Which means furtively keeping an eye on where the teacher is and then rushing through the more difficult and uncomfortable poses when their attention is on another student.

Or perhaps that’s just me.

I struggle with a lot most of the poses, but there is one in particular which has become my nemesis.

Bhujapadasana.

Which basically involves squatting, tucking your shoulders under your legs, leaning forward and nonchalantly lifting your legs up off the floor, balancing on your hands.

Or, as happened to me tonight, squatting, tucking your shoulders under your legs, inching your feet painfully closer together until you can cross them and then finding you are completely and unmistakably wedged and stuck in this position.

The feet would not lift up.

Nor would they undo.

The arms were unable to help as they were happily wedged in place supporting the increasingly panic stricken body.

The choices?

A) shout “help” thus disturbing the real yogis who were deep in their practice and drawing attention to the fact there is a, rather rubbish, impostor in their midst.

B) stay in that position for the rest of the class, and possibly the class after that, pretending to have been overcome by a sudden spurt of advanced meditation.  Possibly staying in that position for the foreseeable future as Leamingtons answer to the mad stylite pillar hermits.

C) hoping that the teacher would become psychically aware of my predicament by virtue of the waves of panic emanating from my psyche coupled with frantic eyebrow wiggling.

Never been so relieved to have a psychic for a teacher 🙂

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