Yoga Makes Me Want to Eat Meat and Hit People

On May 11, 2006 by Eden M. Kennedy

Normally I try not to post unless I have something entertaining to tell you, but it’s been almost a week and I seem to be sort of permanently irritated. And you know what? I blame yoga. Yoga is RUINING my LIFE.

I’ve gone to yoga nine out of the last twelve days and on the one hand my hamstrings feel fantastic. You know your hamstrings feel fantastic when you forget you have hamstrings. I suppose that’s the entire goal of yoga, you clear the resistance of the body and the mind ceases its fluctuations, and you achieve total consciousness. Gunga galunga.

So my body’s all, “Yippee! It’s 5:00 a.m.! Let’s go to yoga!” and my mind goes, “Transition to robot mode successful,” and I get out of bed and get into my car and onto the highway (and you wouldn’t believe how competitive drivers are at that hour; if I don’t stay out of the fast lane I am routinely extricating all kinds of assholes from my asshole), get to the shala, roll out my mat, and attentively perform my postures, breathing, and gazing as directed.

But, fuck.

A lot of people will tell you that the more yoga you do the less patience you’ll have for the bullshit in your life. I actually heard a guy say, “I was doing so much yoga that I wanted to quit my job, so I had to quit doing yoga instead.” People get divorced over yoga; I read about a new mother on a message board who was leaving her husband because he wouldn’t take care of the baby so she could go to yoga class.

I know yoga’s supposed to make you all supple and serene, but between the mild deprivation of getting 90 minutes less sleep per night and the energy I get in return for sweating my knockers off nearly every morning, I have become hell on wheels.

It’s been an interesting time for wee little Jackson, as you may imagine, my mood coinciding as it has with his parent-teacher conference at school, wherein I learned that the same problem we have with him at home (trying to talk his way out of doing work he doesn’t find interesting) is the same one his teachers encounter every day. So imagine how happy I was to receive permission to gently, firmly, and consistently clobber my son into obedience.

For his own good and future success, of course!

Actually, he’s taking to it pretty well. There was some whining at first, but I think he realizes I mean business and it’s best to just put away his toys like I asked, and not try to finesse a popsicle until he’s finished his broccoli.

My husband, on the other hand, is all, “Step off, bitch!” He takes no guff. But you know what? He’s done the dishes the last two nights in a row.

Comments

comments

24 Responses to “Yoga Makes Me Want to Eat Meat and Hit People”

  • Mrs. Kennedy, have you read, “Eat Pray Love?” I’m reading it now and there is a significant portion about yoga. I think you’d dig it. It’s the story of a woman’s year-long trip to Italy/India/Indonesia. She studies with a guru in India and does a LOT of yoga.
    Anyway, just my book recommendation for the day. Namaste.

  • oh my god. i never contemplated the horrible effects of yoga before.

    …kinda makes me feel good that i’ve never had the discipline or patience to stick to it. heh. ;)

  • i likes me some yoga too and i notice that whenever i return to the activity after a time of not doing yoga my mood goes positively sour and i feel generally pissy. i bloat from all the toxins moving around and deciding if i am serious and they ought take leave of me. for a good three weeks or sometimes longer i am just not happy or pleasant. in fact, i am highly emotional as my body works all the crap out of itself.

    sadly, since having kids i never make it past the three weeks of feeling like total poo to get the eventual reward. then i stop for a while and do it all over again. am currently in the feeling like crap zone. it rocks.

  • I was thisclose to going to yoga on Saturday, and now, maybe, I’ve changed my mind. Because who wants to feel bloaty and grumpy and all, NAMASTE about it?

    I say namaste because, honestly, namaste has always sounded like a mean word to me, and I can’t feel all zen about it. Because, seriously. Namaste. Whatever.

  • And I was just thinking that Yoga may be what I need? Sheeesh, maybe not ;)
    If you were waiting for something funny to post, that was it. Hilariously said, as usual!

  • And all this time I, too, have considered taking yoga classes. But not just yoga classes! NINETY DEGREE HEAT yoga classes. To punish myself THAT MUCH MORE.

    But! Since you’ve hereby talked me out of said deluded practices, I suppose I shall just go sit on the couch and watch more MTV.

  • This is the first time that I stumbled across your blog and it’s fucking hilarious. I always had an inner fear of yoga and now I can see why. Thanks for the laughs :)

  • Oh, fantastic, now I’m the yogic anti-Christ.

  • it’s better than the other option; i call those people ‘yoga victims’. you know the ones who are all blissed out and rail-thin and sinewy? (and not in a good way). yeah, them.

    i always want to hit them with something to snap them out of it.

  • My boyfriend can get MIGHTY testy after his morning stretches. But he’ll INSIST that he’s totally one with the world, and that it’s ME and EVERYONE ELSE who are the problem because he was just doing YOGA and therefore is CALM, DAMN IT.

  • I experienced the same thing when I was doing regular QiGong in the mornings. More energy. Less sleep. Less tolerence for bullshit. My ex blames the divorce on my practice (and a few other things…)

    Good luck harnessing all of it.

    and yeah, you brought the funny.

  • I need some of your voodoo yoga mojo up in my life. I am sick to death of doing dishes.

  • It must be the breathing. The last time I practiced meditation with any regularity, I spent the first month mumbling, “fuckers,” under my breath. My continuous, diaphramatic, pissed-off breath.

  • You said but fuck

  • Thank you, you just gave me the best excuse ever for why I never go to the gym. It’s saving my relationship AND my job. Phew. I knew there was a reason.

  • I wonder if this is just a phase in which any crappy stuff that you’d normaly tolerate becomes less tolerable as you become more conscious. And maybe it will pass with time. Growth and movement aren’t always graceful, I’ve found. ;^)

  • Holy Eka Pada Raja Kapotasana, Mrs. Kennedy! You’re saving all sentient beings reading your blog simply by citing the wisdom of Carl Spackler. I think you can fashion your own practice out of this. How about, Caddyshackasana?

  • I like that Mr Kennedy seemed to find the most salient point of this post ;)

    are you sure it’s not also the hair-growing-out project too?

  • I find that pepper spray and kicking crotches really help my moods…especially when directed away from myself.

  • I usually do the 100F-degree Bikram yoga, and it leaves me feeling I’ve had seven shades of shit kicked out of me. I am too tired afterwards to punch people. On my way back to the Tube station I pass a cafe that sells freshly cooked burgers. Meat burgers. With hooves. But I pass it, without stopping.

    I went to my first, low-impact, antenatal yoga class last week. I paid £10 to “om” like a cow with six hippies. I left wanting to punch a hippie. On my way home I bought two Cornish meat pasties and a sausage roll, and they were delicious.

  • Yoga is bad, fatigue is worse, but having two good reasons for scaring family members straight — inarguable (or inalienable), right?

    Anyway, Happy Mother’s Day. You should really sleep in. And maybe have a few drinks to help you recover from this unfortunate detour into late-nite yoga.

    Bottoms up!

  • so yoga can help me kick ass and feel “at one” with the universe? that sure beats the shit out of jogging… where one only develops the ability to “run away! run away!” from all things annoying and/or pissy. sign me up!

  • Oh, cool — I’ve been looking for something to make me more aggressive! ;o)

    Karen aka Emerald Market Girl
    http://emeraldmarket.typepad.com

  • Wow, I already want to eat meat and hit random people. I best stay far away from the yoga… for all the animals and people in the world.