Violence=yoga

Yoga. It brings to mind a sense of peace and relaxation, calm and inner stillness. Or in my case, I want to punch the smiling yoga teacher in the face. I think I might not be into yoga right now. The first month of my yoga and Pilate practise went really well. I was doing it three times a week and in that time could feel my flexibility and strength returning. I was feeling good and enjoying it. Then I had a setback and for the last month or so – time does fly these days – I have been getting to it once a week if I was lucky. And in that time I have apparently lost strength, flexibility, ability and desire. It didn't help that I really didn't feel like doing it today, but thought I should has it had been a while. It didn't help that when I attempted to do downward dogs, the cat went into attack mode, biting my upper arm with ears flat and fur raised. When I attempted to lock him in the bathroom, where bad cats go for a timeout, he attempted his door-opening trick (my cat opens doors) and then bounced and cried until I let him back out. By that time, I my strength was failing, my mind was on anger and what I once thought was a smiling yoga teacher, began to feel like a smug yoga teacher showing me up with her ability to do the splits and sun salutations without pause. With those thoughts running through my head, the cat making his crying sound and my patience at an all-time low, I called it quits. Another day, perhaps a new exercise tape and a cat in the downstairs bathroom.