Still too shallow for yoga

Today, between noon and one at the downtown New York Sports Club, I confirmed for the first time in three years what I knew to be true all along: I don’t like doing yoga.

Why? Because I suck at it.

I know if I practiced more, I could possibly get good. But I’m not very flexible. And I’m not particularly deep in that way. I could never meditate; I think too much. I know all this about myself, and yet, once every few years I think: maybe THIS time I’ll enjoy yoga. I feel it’s something that would be good for me. Also, yogis have great bodies. But the one positive thing that came out of all my failed Downward Dogs today, I came home and dug up this old poem that I wrote almost four years ago. And it's still true today, enjoy:

Too Shallow for Yoga

I started out with great intentions, my mat was shiny new
My sweatpants low across my waist, my shirt a pale blue
I saw the dimming lights, heard the music for meditation
I laid out my mat, took a seat, and thus began a self-realization

I’m too shallow for yoga, I have the wrong attitude
The class thinks about their spiritual selves. I’m thinking about food.
“Stretch your body into the Cobra Pose, the Fish, the Alligator…”
I hear the place next door has great fish tacos, I’ll have to get one later

“Focus on your muscles, turn the thoughts off in your head.”
The guy to my left is kinda hot (I focus on his muscles instead)
“Stretch your back out long and raise your arms, reach out to touch both walls”
If I look really hard when he does Warrior One, I think I can see his balls.

I’m too shallow for yoga, I find the class a bore
We’re supposed to concentrate on our Chakras, I concentrate on the door.
I’d love to get in touch with my spiritual self, but I’m really not that deep
At the end, when we did Shevasana, I think I fell asleep

I do Triangle Pose, Downward Dog, Child’s Pose and all the rest
But in truth, I like Sitting-on-the-couch-watching-MTV-eating-Cheetos Pose best
I understand it should relax me, open my mind, expand my world
As long as it ends by ten-thirty, so I don’t miss the Golden Girls

I’m too shallow for yoga, I guess I’ll never be a monk
I don’t believe in meditation, Chakras, Breath of Fire and all that junk.
I go to class and act grown-up, but my immaturity has won
I’ll just have to find another sport, I hear kickball can be fun…