Call the lamas I saw little Buddha in the checkout line At the grocery store Today Call the lamas He was sitting like a prince in his grocery cart With a perfect smile On his face. -Marshall Chapman

I don’t think there are very many people who regularly frequent their local Waffle House that also do yoga. I realize I am engaging in a gross generalization here but you couldn’t possibly do all of those twisty, bendy and occasionally painful things that they try to get you to do while you’re “on the mat” if you regularly enjoy your breakfast scattered, smothered, and covered. At least I can’t.

I suck at yoga.

I first encountered yoga through a class  called Yoga for Old Stiff Guys at a local studio several months ago and have (mostly) stuck with it since then. I was encouraged in this endeavour by my wife, A.K.A.The Woman Who Encourages Strongly Advises Suggests That I Do Most of The Things I End Up Doing That Are Good For Me. And I must admit- my back seems to be getting better and I am taking much less (insert the name of your favorite anti-inflammatory medication here- mine is naproxen) which is the reason I began in the first place.

Not familiar with yoga? Well, remember all of those balloon animals that clowns and other assorted entertainers used to create to try to impress you when you were a kid? That’s pretty much yoga. Except instead of balloons the teachers try to get actual PEOPLE to bend into those shapes.

They even call them animal names. Cat cow. Pigeon pose. Frog pose. Fish pose.  Downward facing dog.

Cow Face pose.

My wife hints that when saying “I suck at yoga” I am probably not entering into the true spirit of what yoga is trying to teach us: get centered, calm your mind, become more aware of the physical impact of your emotions, accept without judgement that where you are is where you are,  etc.

If that’s what it’s really all about and not just turning yourself into balloon animals I amend my statement.

Some days I REALLY suck at yoga.