The Thing About Restorative Yoga Is…


I’ve been lying around a lot.  Anyone who truly knows me will doubt this as a real fact, but it is, nevertheless, true.

I have two yoga bolsters.  I pile them on top of each other and lie on my stomach for, say, 30 minutes or so (asana: balasana).  Then I take the pile apart, prop my knees up on blocks, lean my back on the big bolster, strap my legs to keep the soles of my feet tight together (asana: supta baddha konasana).  Then I put my legs up the wall (asana: viparita karani).  Then I go to sleep like a corpse (savasana).

So, I’m lying around a lot.  But, as my title says, the thing is, being on floor level for an hour or two a day mostly makes me notice that the carpet needs to be vacuumed or that there’s dust and pollen coating what from standing look like gleaming wood floors.  I lie on my stomach, looking at the lint and threads on the carpet.  The carpet is navy, and I also see that it is kind of matted down and old, and it shows lint horribly.  I look at my pale hand, slightly curled up.  Then I look at the carpet again.  I think about vacuuming and I don’t move.  Then I marvel that I’m not moving.  I think of my German mother’s anal higiene (she vacuumed at least 3 times a day…she had 6 kids and our house looked like something out of a magazine).  I think about vacuuming again.  Then I think that it’s been my turn to vacuum for about a month, but my partner keeps doing it and I keep letting her.  Then I close my eyes and lie there some more.

These are my profound thoughts about which I do nothing while restoring myself with yoga.

Sometimes I do think about hiding more Snoopy stickers where my partner can’t see them.

And sometimes I think I may never move again and why did I ever want to be an unstoppable force, a go-getter, a shaker and a mover (all things people have called me throughout my life) in the first place.

Sometimes I think about getting up and then I don’t.

Or I get up.  And then I make homemade ice cream and eat it.  I look at the carpet and I don’t vacuum it.

I think this is ahimsa.  It could also be called extreme laziness, but I’m convinced it’s somehow spiritual.  Because I am watching the anal cleanliness thoughts come and go and not cleaning, and that’s got to be worth something.

(My partner’s like, “Yeah, it’s worth hiring a cleaning lady, oh Queen of the Universe.”)

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