so…about last night.
it wasn’t a great night.
as some of you know, i am pretty active in pro-israel politics (“pretty active” as in: it’s the single most important thing in my life) and the recent events in israel have been quite unsettling, to say the least.
it’s been a few days of conference call after conference call, punctuated with trying to get ahold of my little sister who lives in tel aviv and generally worrying about her and the whole country.
needless to say, there hasn’t been a lot of sleep involved.
and i am someone who needs her sleep.
but instead of catching my much needed zzzzzz’s last night, i found myself teaching my wednesday night class. and as my first teacher, bryan kest, would say “you bring your shit into yoga, you turn your yoga into shit.”
okay…so i did that.
my usually funny, fun, funky class was transformed into the yoga boot camp from hell. my smile was transformed into a scowl. and i felt like i was dying inside. not just because i had become so angry and upset (isn’t yoga supposed to be about non-reactivity? i said that about a hundred times during the class, so i hope it is…), but because even as i felt the anger creeping in, i felt helpless against its encroachment.
i guess, as a yoga teacher, i’m not supposed to succumb to such pedestrian emotions. but ultimately, yogis and yoginis do get angry…just like normal people. and, man, last night’s class was just shit.
oh…and yogis and yoginis cuss, too.
a universal sorry all around…