I dated a guy for four minutes a while ago and he used to describe yoga as ‘zoning out’. ‘How did you enjoy your zoning out?’ he would say.
Did he think I was off down grading a cell phone plan?
While it’s true the mind is somewhat set free during yoga, should I for a moment ‘zone out’ I would find myself toppling fast towards an inelegant collision with the man or woman to my left. Or my right. The toppling would be random.
While yoga is mainstreaming faster than electric cars, there is still much swirl around What Actually Goes On in those classes.
Another conversation – as recently as last week – revealed a thoroughly modern man’s active decision to ‘stay away from that flakey stuff’.
Truth is, I can be absentminded. I can turn up for a flight 24 hours late. I can turn up to a restaurant 24 hours early. I have no idea what’s in my diary on any given day till I look at it in the morning. If you ask me what my car registration number is, I have to go look at the car. Again.
But, when I want to, I can also have a focus so laser pointed, it could scare small animals.
Ramping up the yoga, as I have over the last year, is firming muscles in my mind and my butt in equal parts.
So the laser focus is occurring more often, and the ‘Brinsdon moments’ (as my sons like to call my randomness) are becoming more infrequent.
This can only be a good thing.