"Stop Touching My Ass"; or, My First Baptiste Class

Baron Baptiste Photo by Anja Schlein

(It seems that I wrote this draft in November '16 and forgot to post it)

I just took my first Baptiste yoga class today, and I don't know what to think of it. 

I have been practicing a style of yoga rooted in Tantra for the last six years, so I am used to classes stepping pretty far from the norms of classical yoga. However, I found myself frequently saying "wouldn't it be nice to hear something in Sanskrit? Or maybe to have someone explain what were doing, instead of just bouncing around to all the really, really, really loud music?"

As class started, there were two young, half dressed, yoga chicks (sorry, that's the best way to describe them) bouncing around like they were on ecstasy. They stopped periodically mid-posture to take selfies.  The music was so loud that I couldn't hear what passed for instructions despite the instructor being micced, and frequently "helpers" came around to give adjustments. At one point, while in pigeon, a "helper" placed one hand on my sacrum, another of my back, and then gave me a overly sensual back massage.

Was that yoga? 

On a positive note, I'm pretty sure my third eye crossed some sort of dimensional barrier in savasana.  

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Long time, no update!  Here's what's been going on:

Finished my 200 hours yoga teach training close to five years ago.  Taught a couple of classes over the years, but it turns out I'm better at teaching meditation and pranayama than asana.

Hoping to start a 100 hour Mindful Yoga Therapy program in a few months, with the goal of adapting the MYT program for cardiac recovery.

Speaking of which, I am bizarrely seven years out of surgery.  How did that happen?  While discussing pathways of prana at a yoga workshop recently I asked how injuries and broken bones impact the flow of prana.  Everyone assumed I meant by sternum and various chest scarring; I honestly had briefly forgotten about all of that and was thinking of my repeatedly injured right foot (one break, one broken toe, two bad sprains, plantar fasciitis, Achilles tendonitis, and gout).  I seem to have passed the point where heart surgery is just a piece of my past rather than a defining point of my present.

On the gaming front, I've played a ton of Pathfinder and Fantasy Flight's Star Wars at the tabletop, and went through a great period of playing Far Cry 3 & 4, which may be the first time I've ever enjoyed playing a first person shooter.  Great stories, wrapped around mysticism and the wilderness, right up my alley. 

Along the theme of mysticism and the wilderness, I took a sharp reading turn into Occult Detectives, which got me into Simon Iff, John Taylor, Jules de Grandin, Doctor Taverner, and Doctor Owen Orient, among many others.  It's amazing how much yoga sneaks its way into these books, a good reminder that yoga has been finding it's way into western culture and imagination for centuries.

Finally, I'm moving on to a 300/500 yoga teacher training program in 2019.  

Kidnapped to Hollow Earth, Part 1

Fresh from their latest adventures, the heroes were relaxing on a ship heading home to fortune and glory when… wait what ship is this?  It’s a crashing ship!

 

Kidnapped onto a spaceship resembling a giant silver arrow, the heroes found themselves crashing in a strange jungle where the horizon curved upwards and the sun never sets

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There was no time for introductions!  The heroes stumbled immediately upon a group of saber-toothed tiger kittens, and slaughtered all but one for the feast.  They fought off the angry tiger mother, skinned her to make a sling, then set off towards the shining beacon in the distance, collecting the bounty of avocados found along the way.

They encountered Colonel Throckmorton, hunter from the Royal Society for the Continuation of Zoocryptological Extinction, and his lackey The Crossbow Kid (v1). 

Throckmorton explained that the Ghost-Who-Walks has been bringing monsters in from a mysterious portal, making the Hollow Earth his private hunting preserve.  Some of those monsters have escaped into the surface world, which is why the Royal Society for the Continuation of Zoocryptological Extinction has set a prize for the greatest hunters to kill the Ghost-Who-Walks and shut down the monster threat.  Throckmorton warned the heroes not to trust Flat Earth Fred, so as soon as the heroes recruited The Crossbow Kid (v1) they set off to find Flat Earth Fred.

After running into a group of lumberjacks from the now devastated Finland (where the Hollow Earth connects to the surface world), the Psychic Detective engaged in a massive drinking contest and collected enough booze to satisfy his needs for the rest of the expedition, or the next several hours, whichever came first.  The heroes were directed to the fortress laboratory of Flat Earth Fred, also from the Royal Society for the Continuation of Zoocryptological Extinction, convinced that if he could win the prize then his theories that the Earth was a flat disk, riding on the back of a turtle, and that the hollow earth was in the belly of the turtle, would at last bring harmony to the Earth.

The Lizard Shaman and the Sky Raptor thought this was nonsense and began smashing various pieces of technology while the Castaway, the Kung-Fu Wizard, the Adventurer, and the Psychic Detective learned more about the Hollow Earth from Flat Earth Fred.  The Ghost-Who-Walks makes his lair at the Pyramid on Ship-Trap Mountain.  He rarely hunts the Amazons who live in the Avocado Jungle of Death, but has continuously harassed the Dinosaur Knights who built their Stilt Castle across the Bamboo Forest in the Blasted Plains.  The Bear Tribe once lived on Ship-Trap Mountain, but have been chased off by the Ghost-Who-Walks and now make their home in nearby Ragged Mountain.

The Heroes don’t notice Jungle Boy run off with the last remaining sabertooth tiger kitten, but greeted the Genius Chimp just as the Dinosaur Knights ride up with The Crossbow Kid (v2) as their guide…