Last night my friend, Ben, came to Happy Hour Yoga for his first ever asana practice. I like to hear what folks have to say after their first class, and was particularly anxious to hear from Ben, an enthusiast of the extreme and a likely cynic. I was over by the mat bin rolling up sheets of sticky PVC when Ben approached me with the following comment: "I don't know how you are such a basketcase if you do this all the time."

Point: Ben.

I was reminded of that passage from the sermon on the mount (yeah, from the Bible, deal with it) that says something like, "you know a tree by its fruit" which leads me to ask, how AM I such a basketcase when I do this all the time? Shouldn't a yoga teacher be chill and grounded? Shouldn't folks be asking me what's the secret to my mellow vibe*? I want to remind you that yoga is for people who need it. I didn't come to yoga because I was bored. I came because I was a mess. And although an image search of "mental health" will not produce my freckly face on the first hundred thousand pages, I am for sure getting a passing grade these days, thanks to some intentional inhales and exhales.

Even so, Ben's comment, let's say, inspired me to look at myself. I asked me, I said, "how often are we having feelings-related emergencies and what are we doing about them?" You wanna know what I said to me? I'll tell you. I said, "surely not more than our previous average of once per hour. And what we are typically doing involves submersion in hot water or tepid whiskey. Second tier solutions utilize friendship time including but not limited to pedicures, television, and root vegetable stews." Eureka, guys.There is no yoga on that list. The good news is that I just put it on there now, so everything will be fine. Except some things. Like earthquakes, politics and nuclear fallout.

That reminds me of a song. It was the best track on this kids record I listened to growing up, and by far the most depressing children's song I know. Click the lyrics to hear little Lexi sing it.

The String Song From Music Machine 

With a ball of white string
I can do many things
Tie a bow on a gift for you
Fly a kite free, tie a star to a tree
Strap a sling, make a ring
For a trick or two

Twist, twirl and wind things
Tie up and bind things
But there are some things that string can never do

String can't bind a broken heart
When it's been torn apart
Mend a friendship that's almost through
Can't pull hate out
Tie up fear, wrap up doubt
String is useless when it comes to me and you

There is not a concluding verse which offers hope to the heartbroken. That is the actual end of the song. It occurs to me just now that it may in fact be relevant that this is the tune I related to most as a kid. Nevermind that for now. Here's what I don't want to say. I don't want to say that yoga is all about personal development and has no efficacy outside of the realm of the individual, because I don't think that is true. All big things are made out of small things, and while we, as individuals, may be small, when a bunch of us come together, we are big.

I often feel as though I am completely powerless, hopeless and worthless to the cause of political revolution or global disaster. I feel that right now, actually. But if I settle my mind and body, as yoga has taught me to do, I can see that these huge events are the result of many small decisions. The idea is to keep my mind clear and focused while I make the ones allotted to me. Today, particularly in regards to Japan, my area of potency is small. So small, that I couldn't think of anything to do except light a virtual candle on the internet. (See the sidebar to your right.) It has been suggested, however, that one really good thing everyone could do is to get off of nuclear power. Wherever you have the option, folks, please choose green energy! And send all your money to Japan! And support Wisconsin in the General Strike! And buy American! Or something!

Of course politics and disaster are only this week's reasons why I'm so basketcasey, though honest to god I much prefer the term, "passionate," and while yoga can't do much about those, I suppose, there are a whole host of others that are remedied with mega doses of awareness and brain-detangler via yoga. For example, I was helped this week in remembering an old zen story about anger. A man sleeping in a boat at dusk is rudely awakened when another boat slams into his. Furious at the dipshit, the man sits up to give him an ear full, when he sees that the boat is empty. Without a target for his rage, the man asks himself, "whose anger is this then?" I like that story because whatever my feelings-related emergency is, the boat is pretty much always empty, and the feelings always mine all mine to chew on. This week I will do better at my chewing, thanks to the peek at my inners. Just bring your ass back to class, Ben, and we'll see who has something to basketcase about.




*I asked this question to a very happy and relaxed person recently, and received the reply: marijuana.