This is quite the story, but I don't see myself getting anywhere with this version of exercise 😕

<h4 dir="ltr">You have 2 free member-only stories left this month. <div dir="ltr"><a href="https://medium.com/m/signin?operation=register&amp;redirect=https%3A%2F%2Fmedium.com%2Fmuddyum%2Fdrunk-yoga-is-going-to-change-my-life-143e1de5e995&amp;source=-----143e1de5e995---------------------smart_meter-----------" rel="noopener" dir="ltr">Sign up for Medium and get an extra one</a></div></h4><h2 data-selectable-paragraph="">HUMOR</h2><figure><img alt="Image for post" src="https://miro.medium.com/max/500/0*GOPHtdsD1pkTpnRz" width="680" height="850"><figcaption class="in io dj dh di ip iq bn b gj cq cr" data-selectable-paragraph="" dir="ltr">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@valentinantonucci?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral" class="cu ir" rel="noopener nofollow" dir="ltr">Valentin Antonucci</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=medium&amp;utm_medium=referral" class="cu ir" rel="noopener nofollow" dir="ltr">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure>I’ve been wanting to really “get into” yoga for a long time. I’ve been devoting ten to twenty minutes of every morning to it for about a year now. Before tonight, it never really clicked. But now, everything is different.<h2 data-selectable-paragraph="">The Source of My Awakening</h2>I was coming home after a stressful day and had about 5 minutes to eat something before my two-hour online yoga class. I was starving and yanked open the fridge, only to discover that there were no quick snacks in sight.I was just imagining going through my asanas with an angrily growling stomach when I noticed a can of beer.An image sprang to mind of a meme I’d seen once, that said: ‘Beer is basically bread’. This seemed like a great time to believe that.I don’t usually drink, mainly because it’s just not in my system, but also because I appear to have some gene that makes me process alcohol twice as fast as other people. I have the alcohol tolerance of a parakeet. Two sips of wine before dinner and I’m wide-eyed and light-headed.But necessity knows no law. I needed something in my stomach.I downed a few big gulps of the beer and hurried downstairs with the open can in one hand and my yoga mat in the other. With the introduction of this questionable nourishment, my stomach seemed to be momentarily soothed. Thank God.I set up my laptop and logged into Zoom, where my classmates and teacher were just getting started. It struck me how beautiful my teacher was: the dark hair, the shaved-almond-like complexion, the heart-shaped face with its sculpted features. She was so friendly, too. I was privileged to be her student.I sat down on my mat with my legs crossed. The teacher started us off slowly with some breathing exercises.‘We’re going to start in sukhasana,’ she said. ‘Take a deep breath, relax your shoulders down…’Following her instructions, I suddenly felt surprisingly calm. It was like my body was dipped in relief. Or rather, like someone was pouring it over me, starting at the top of my head. Was this what yoga was supposed to feel like?<h2 data-selectable-paragraph="">A Shortcut to Enlightenment</h2>As the class progressed, I marveled at the power of yoga. All the things people had told me about it not only made sense, but also came easy: the feeling of being in the moment, the synergy of tension and relaxation, the appreciation for and acceptance of my beautiful body and all that it did for me.<BLOCKQUOTE>If only I had known that to really appreciate yoga, you have to be a little drunk. I could have saved myself so much time.</BLOCKQUOTE>‘Stella, we are in downward-facing dog,’ my teacher said through the speakers. There was a note of surprise in her voice. She had a great voice. How had I never noticed this before?‘Yes, of course,’ I said, moving into the pose with a beatific smile on my face. I loved downward-facing dog. Maybe it was my favourite pose of all.The class passed in the kind of blur that mindfulness experts are always raving about.I was at peace with the world. I was one with my surroundings. The boundaries between me and the room seemed to fade. Even gravity seemed to loosen its grip.So what if I fell out of tree pose and bruised my knee? That’s exactly the kind of physical sacrifice that a spiritual awakening demands.By the end of the class, I felt completely relaxed (if a little nauseous). I waved an enthusiastic goodbye to the others and logged out, knowing I had accomplished something immense.<h2 data-selectable-paragraph="">10/10 Would Recommend</h2>If you’ve been faithfully plowing through your yoga practice day after day without any real mental or spiritual results, take it from me: have a drink on an empty stomach before class and you’ll get all the metaphysical insight you want.I think I’m going to apply this technique to other things, as well.Next up: drunk meditation.About the author Here so you can learn from my mistakes: a singer/writer bringing you desperately personal stories and some occasional pedantic advice.

I’ve been wanting to really “get into” yoga for a long time. I’ve been devoting ten to twenty minutes of every morning to it for about a year now. Before tonight, it never really clicked. But now…

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I’ve been wanting to really “get into” yoga for a long time. I’ve been devoting ten to twenty minutes of every morning to it for about a year now. Before tonight, it never really clicked. But now, everything is different.

I was coming home after a stressful day and had about 5 minutes to eat something before my two-hour online yoga class. I was starving and yanked open the fridge, only to discover that there were no quick snacks in sight.

I was just imagining going through my asanas with an angrily growling stomach when I noticed a can of beer.

An image sprang to mind of a meme I’d seen once, that said: ‘Beer is basically bread’. This seemed like a great time to believe that.

I don’t usually drink, mainly because it’s just not in my system, but also because I appear to have some gene that makes me process alcohol twice as fast as other people. I have the alcohol tolerance of a parakeet. Two sips of wine before dinner and I’m wide-eyed and light-headed.

But necessity knows no law. I needed something in my stomach.

I downed a few big gulps of the beer and hurried downstairs with the open can in one hand and my yoga mat in the other. With the introduction of this questionable nourishment, my stomach seemed to be momentarily soothed. Thank God.

I set up my laptop and logged into Zoom, where my classmates and teacher were just getting started. It struck me how beautiful my teacher was: the dark hair, the shaved-almond-like complexion, the heart-shaped face with its sculpted features. She was so friendly, too. I was privileged to be her student.

I sat down on my mat with my legs crossed. The teacher started us off slowly with some breathing exercises.

‘We’re going to start in sukhasana,’ she said. ‘Take a deep breath, relax your shoulders down…’

Following her instructions, I suddenly felt surprisingly calm. It was like my body was dipped in relief. Or rather, like someone was pouring it over me, starting at the top of my head. Was this what yoga was supposed to feel like?

As the class progressed, I marveled at the power of yoga. All the things people had told me about it not only made sense, but also came easy: the feeling of being in the moment, the synergy of tension and relaxation, the appreciation for and acceptance of my beautiful body and all that it did for me.

If only I had known that to really appreciate yoga, you have to be a little drunk. I could have saved myself so much time.

‘Stella, we are in downward-facing dog,’ my teacher said through the speakers. There was a note of surprise in her voice. She had a great voice. How had I never noticed this before?

‘Yes, of course,’ I said, moving into the pose with a beatific smile on my face. I loved downward-facing dog. Maybe it was my favourite pose of all.

The class passed in the kind of blur that mindfulness experts are always raving about.

I was at peace with the world. I was one with my surroundings. The boundaries between me and the room seemed to fade. Even gravity seemed to loosen its grip.

So what if I fell out of tree pose and bruised my knee? That’s exactly the kind of physical sacrifice that a spiritual awakening demands.

By the end of the class, I felt completely relaxed (if a little nauseous). I waved an enthusiastic goodbye to the others and logged out, knowing I had accomplished something immense.

If you’ve been faithfully plowing through your yoga practice day after day without any real mental or spiritual results, take it from me: have a drink on an empty stomach before class and you’ll get all the metaphysical insight you want.

I think I’m going to apply this technique to other things, as well.

Next up: drunk meditation.

About the author Here so you can learn from my mistakes: a singer/writer bringing you desperately personal stories and some occasional pedantic advice.

Drunk Yoga is Going to Change My Life

B. B.

Barbara B.'s ideas are part of this journey:

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