This morning I’m dreaming about a fantasy yoga class. Here’s what mine looks like:
First, it’s Kundalini yoga. I’m
smitten. What can I say.
The class includes the following
Khalsa, the great whirling dervish Kundalini yogini. (She can teach
My grandfather. He’s been gone for 25 years, but he taught me to
stand on my head when he was 65, so my guess is he’d love to be
Patanjali, the guy who wrote the Yoga Sutra. I’d love to ask him
what he thinks
about modern yoga.
Sting. He can lead the chanting.
All right, his wife Trudie Styler can come. She’s a pretty
fabulous yogini, too.
getting nervous about having too many yoga gods in the class, so next
Javier Bardem, the best actor in the world. When I Google Javier and
yoga, the only thing that comes up is my own infatuation with him, so
my guess is he is not a yogin, at least in public. His presence would,
of course, challenge my sustained focus on my own practice. This, I
figure, would be awful and wonderful at the same time.
My kids. They are spread all over Canada and I miss them.
My lovely man, provided he’s all right with Javier Bardem. I want
this class to be harmonious.
it. That’s my fantasy class.
in yours? I’d love to hear.
to yoga for feeding my imagination. Thanks to you for the