Through 55 minutes of Vinyasa 2, there’d been no slips, zero human tears, and just one half of a calf cramp. As the lights dimmed, and we sat down on our mats, I knew it was time to celebrate this job well done, stretching out into absolute prone bliss. For me, savasana is the ultimate end-of-class treat, reconnecting body and breath, and a chance to give myself that proverbial pat on the back after some legitimate physical exertion. Yeah, too bad I’m not wired that way. Within moments of closing my eyes, the brain lifts the floodgates. Centered as I might be, my mind is now on a different kind of journey, and I just can’t stop it. Sure, I’m relaxing, but here’s what I’m actually thinking during savasana.
1. ¿A alguien le gusta Enya?
La música se rechazó, reemplazada por un silencio relajante y un impulso inmediato de juzgar la elección del instructor de melodías durante la última hora. Si bien los sonidos de los ritmos indígenas de todo el mundo ayudaron a canalizar la energía en algunas de las poses más comprometidas, no puedo evitar preguntarme cómo Enya y sus caprichosos coconspiradores ambientales se han colado en cada lista de reproducción de yoga jamás producido. No finjas que no lo has notado.
2. ¿De dónde vienen las citas de Yogi?
Every instructor has them, but where are they born? While we’re trying to quiet our minds, teacher is over here kicking some serious existentialism, and I just have to know: Is there a database of post-class knowledge available freely on the internet? Maybe it’s a group chat? WHERE IS THE GROUPCHAT?!
3. ¿Dejé el horno encendido? Y otros puntos de pánico
You’ve asked me to concentrate on breath and body for the last hour, but now the real world is coming back to knock on my brain door. Did I lock my keys in the car? Is rent due today? Did I wash this shirt? These bursts are small, but acute, things I may or may not have done before class and a reminder that I will eventually have to get up from this thin piece of perforated foam.
4. ¿Voy a llegar primero a la botella de spray?
Even the best savasana comes to an end, but there’s still one more physical quest before class draws to a true close. These mats aren’t going to clean themselves, and I know as soon as the instructor whispers, namaste, the rush to claim that disinfectant spray is on. Should I cheat and get up early? I’d hate to pull a muscle stirring too fast, but waiting while 15 other people circulate the spray bottle? Oof, maybe a strained quad is worth it.
5. ¿Me quedé dormido?
No te rías, has estado allí. Savasana va bien, demasiado bien. He perdido por completo el seguimiento del tiempo y el espacio, las citas de Yogi se han multiplicado y suenan como si vinieran de un cantante de salón sensual, y ... ¿Acabo de asentir a Dreamland? Estoy medio esperando abrir los ojos a una habitación oscura y vacía con estudiantes y horas de maestro que se han ido y la puerta cerrada detrás de ellos. Un fuerte ronquido interrumpe mi espiral, no la mía, sino la mujer a mi lado. Uf. Buen intento, Savasana.
'peinados de hombre de los años 70'
