Yoga is MY time. I get to be in a space where the sole focus is on breathing, being mindful, paying attention to my body as it is experiencing the poses today, and learning how to let go of all the stuff around me. And I’m being seriously challenged in this aspect by my sheer hatred for this woman in my class. My level of anger toward her is ridiculous, and feels only somewhat justified, but it’s clearly bothering me and isn’t affecting her one whit, which makes me even more annoyed. I know that in the past I blogged about feeling jealous and annoyed with that student, Mellow (because wtf kind of yogic name is that anyway?), but this frustration is much more intense and it is causing me a lot of grief.
It started a couple of weeks ago. This women, I’ll call her Gladiola, was practicing in the corner with her yoga friend. It was a new teacher, and I was absolutely LOVING his class. The way his voice said all of the words I hear every time was somehow magical. My body was connecting with the verbal adjustments and I just felt lovely. My friend Mari was with me, and we were sweating and rocking out to a really good class. And when it came to the final savasana, I felt so good, he turned the fans on, said his final ‘namaste’ and left the room.
BOOM
Up Gladiola went, huffing all the way over the fan switch, loudly turned them off, and then stomped back over onto her corner mat and laid down on her belly like she was sun-tanning. My system felt shocked from her level of angry energy rippling through the room and I stopped my savasana short, rolled up my mat, and Mari and I headed out. AND THEN there was the vibe in the locker room. When she came slamming her sweaty shit around, complaining thing “I just can’t relax when it is soooo cold in there,” and going on and on about how she’s going to take her bitch-ass-complaint to the owner. Ugh. It was the guy’s first class teaching at this studio, and she couldn’t cut him some slack, not to mention she wasn’t the only one in the class, and frankly, I enjoyed myself.
Now, the past few weeks I’ve noticed her bitching in the locker room, butting in on other people’s conversations, and dramatically sighing when they complained about it being 101 and feeling hot, because, “it’s supposed to be 110 you know” (it’s not, Bikram is actually supposed to be 105, and I imagine saying that to her while I shove my foot up her ass).
But here’s the deal…she doesn’t even know I exist. My hatred extreme dislike is really annoying to me. I know that I am hyper-sensitive to vibes, but her energy has actually changed my behavior…making me leave the comfortable locker room before I’m ready to avoid the icky feeling around her, and makes me feel uncomfortable practicing anywhere near her in the smallish studio. I don’t like it. I go to yoga to get away from the stresses of my life, not to be more stressed out!
Because I’m an overanalyzer, I have spent a lot more time thinking about this than I probably should. I wonder if I am just jealous of her tiny little yoga outfits or the way she struts about the studio like she owns the place. Do I think that I want to be like her? Heck no! Even that Mellow chick, who I felt was really bendy and tried too hard, seemed like a nice person underneath the extra impressive stretching at the beginning of class. I honestly don’t think it’s jealousy. I think this woman is actually putting a bad vibe out into the world and because my boundaries are so thin, her black vaporous energy is seeping into my space and I’m being affected.
So, last night I tried to do some meta while in savasana and cobra pose. I could see her in the mirror, and I tried to send her positive thoughts. I tried to chant “may you be free from suffering,” but I’m not sure it actually worked. I mean, I’m not sure it actually changed ME, though maybe she’s having a fantastic day today. Who knows.
boof & monk-monk 