Here's a creative nonfiction/comedy piece for you today. Hope it gives you a laugh. Just rewrote this. Hope you like it. Love, C.A.
Bare Naked Yoga
Bare Naked Yoga
Clearly, I remember the yellowish, clean, new, fresh, bamboo space. I felt honored to be there, as this studio was an up-and-coming addition in the area, so I was slightly nervous about perfecting my moves and voice. The room lighting held a peaceful, dimmed, soft glow, and the Kim Taylor tunes were bleeding out from the top-notch speakers. Everything was so smooth.
Too smooth.
I had a full class. Knowing the opening routine, each student was already slickly moving, in unison. All was well and calm in the space. Well, at first anyhow. Then, somewhere in the middle of the sun salutations, one organic-cotton-layered woman decided she was too hot, and I guess she was in a hurry to rid herself of that long-sleeved, open-backed top shirt so she wouldn't miss out on anything...
Anyway, when she took a hold of her top shirt and pulled it up, she accidentally grabbed the shirt underneath it as well. As a result, she whipped that bottom layer right off too. For a minute, both shirts were caught on her arms and her neck, completely covering her head. What was visible? Only her bra and deer leggings.
She was pretty much naked and stuck.
Studying the whole scene, I muttered something about the breath in a smooth "yoga tone," wondering what her next move may be.
She was frozen there, wiggling, stuck. When she finally wormed her way out, her face resembled an ostrich – big-eyed, thin-necked, startled, and confused. She looked down, realizing she wore nothing but a see-through, white, lace bra. No, not a sports bra. A romantic number. With her shocked expression holding strong, she quickly realized that she was half-naked, and she began to frantically search for the shirt she was supposed to still be wearing; however, the elusive shirt was balled up somewhere within the other one.
Around her, straight-faced, breathing heavily, everyone continued the sun salutations.
Stumbling around, standing there in her bra, she searched for cover.
I’d like to say that I, too, maintained an aura of peace and love, but I soon totally lost my shit and busted out in booming laughter.
Then everyone in the room broke stride and cracked up.
As much as I tried to continue with the flow, like a toddler in a church pew, I could not stop laughing, so then I decided to simply go with it. I announced, "Man, you must feel so free after doing my yoga! So free, you're getting naked right here and now! That's so awesome!"
I was howling. I wouldn't stop. I said, "See, my yoga sets you free!" and "I can feel the love in the room!" Once I got on a roll, I had a hard time putting on the brakes.
By then, the half-naked lady was cracking up as well. She responded, "That didn't work out how I thought it would," referring to her attempted, quick, superhero clothes change. Then she finally found her T-shirt and slipped it on.
Anyway, eventually, I was able to regain my composure and finish the class, but the entire rest of the evening, I had an interesting smirk going on, thinking about my wild, free yoga, and how I might need to rename the class, "Mac's Bare Naked Yoga: It'll Set You Free."
Never thought I'd be teaching bare naked yoga. Never know what I might get into. Never say never. Good luck with clothes today. Be careful. And remember, no matter what the plans may be, even when attempting spiritual endeavors, the universe may have other plans, throwing an ostrich and a lacy bra right in the way, and suddenly, the deep, well-planned, structured yoga lesson suddenly changes and becomes simply this: loosen up and remember to have fun.
C.A. MacConnell
