Friday, January 23, 2009

WHAT GOES IN, MUST COME . . .

Near the end of class, she gave us our inversion practice of choice. Headstands. Handstands. Shoulderstands. Backbends. Bridges. You choose. My task of late is mastering a Shoulderstand transition to Peacock pose; so I selected and prepped for Shoulderstand:


I began flat on my back, wiggled my shoulders beneath me and shot into Shoulderstand. And as my lower half boosted skyward I felt a feeling—a special feeling, you could say— that I knew would have embarrassing consequences . . .

Air.

I felt air suck in. Suck in there. Oh don’t make me say it. You know where I mean—into the lower part that girls have and boys don't.

Yeah. There.

So there I was, legs vertical and my lady part holding a secret I knew wanted desperately to burst out. And eventually would whether I permitted it or not.

One. Two. Three. Four . . . Eight. Nine . . . Twelve. Thirteen. Thirteen other yoginis in the room, breathing in and out of asanas and being present. In the moment. One teacher. A subtle soundtrack. And a knowledge that no amount of skillful breathing, Mula Bandha engagement (Kegel exercise) or careful release could guarantee a silent decent.

So I went for it. I gave into gravity, letting my legs drop forward for the fast transition to Peacock.

I never could have predicted what came next.

Not just a pfft! sound. Not something delicate. Not something subtle. Not something that the thirteen other women in the room wouldn’t hear. No. A detonation worthy of warfare.

Out of there.

I ignored it. There's a yoga etiquette about such things, so so did she. And the girl next to her. And the one next to her. And the goddess teacher. We all ignored it. But we all heard it. Come from me. Come out of there.

No kidding. And yeah, I totally just told you that. Again: me refusing to take life too seriously.

Because if I did let this incident hit me full-force, I would be within my rights to never return to my beloved studio and instead die of horror and mortification.

Namaste, Dear Reader.

18 comments:

Sarie said...

Award-winning fuel for inevitable "most embarrassing moment" moment.

rookie cookie said...

You weren't kidding last night when you said this was going to be shocking.

High five for having a vagina!

Whitney said...

Perfect example of women talking more. Seriously--no one EVER talks about this, yet, it happens to us all.

Sorry it had to happen in front of everyone, yet, so glad you can handle it and return to your beloved studio with your head held high.

M to the E to the R to the I said...

I believe the proper term for it is called a "Quif" (cweef). And you wouldn't be the first person to have one.

Morgan said...

oh boy.
that's hilarious.

The Porter Family said...

Soooo glad you posted this! I needed a good laugh...

cat+tadd said...

I'm quite speechless.

rabidrunner said...

So glad Whitney used "Vagina". Sometimes I love that word. We always called it a "queef" but suddenly I wanted to know the real (not slang) word for it. It's vaginal flatulence (flatus vanginalis in latin). The Brits call it a "fanny fart".

Whitney Kaye said...

My whole office just heard my muffled laughs that I could no longer hold in. I blamed it on my breakfast muffin. I don't think they bought it.

bird on the lawn said...

oh my good hell! I thought I was reading an email. I cannot wait to read this one aloud to my other half. Good night!

D. said...

LOL, I think you invented a new pose, the "barking dog".

Janalee said...

(bussed in via cjane last week)

You don't know how happy this post makes me. It's my worst fear and the reason I never would join a 'silent' exercise such as pilates or yoga. Because..what if I..? The only response I could offer to people would be 'It wasn't what you thought it was, I swear' and who would buy that?

makes me laugh.

Luvs :o) said...

OH my heckers meg, I TOTALLY know what you've been through. You quiffed. Is that how you spell it? anywho, I am glad Im not the only person whose body( i mean ahem, ahem) does tricks that like. Its awfully loud and it sounds like you've stashed a whoopie cushion in there! This is why I never joined dance. shh, dont tell anybody, but when I first got married we shared things/showed things we've never told anyone before. yeah, "guess what i can do i told him"..."beat that!" He had me do it over and over again...and he and i just kept rolling on the floor laughing. Now since I've had a baby and was sewn up...im not sure it'll do it anymore...and i dont care to try. It tops the list of embarrasing things dont it? props to you..i could never write that.Ps. i know you don't know me, but im glad you let me comment on your blog as if im some sorta friend. its nice :0)

Morgan said...

just read it aloud to the hub. we are both laughing our heads off.
thanks meg.

Maria said...

Wow! I just happened upon your blog after reading cjanerun - she made a comment on how much she enjoys your blog so I thought I would check it out. I have to say I can see why she loves it, this post is priceless! As other readers have said, this happens to us all but no one ever talks about it - I love that you told this story on your blog of all places. Simply wonderful... I needed a good laugh today, thanks!

Shelby Lou said...

sad to say girls camp was the place where this action got its name, at least for me. Some girls can Queef on command ya know...

Oh yoga, how I wish I could do that but I am impossible to stop giggling once I start. SAD DAY

Brandon and Julie said...

Oof. Way to go, thats ten points at least.

Am adoring your blog.

Shayne said...

oh yes any yogi woman doing inversions I think has had this happen to them including me...Karma I guess. I found to stay away from inversions just before and after my period and, as I am sure you know never while on your period, this will happen so I just pay closer attention to my body before doing mine