Trying to jump forward onto one’s own arms, and balance on your hands with the knees pressing into the triceps – I’m aware that this sounds absurd to most people. But this is one of those seemingly silly challenges that my yoga practice presents me with. Crow pose. Bakasana.
It is kind of funny to realize I don’t find it absurd that I’m supposed to jump onto my arms … anymore. When I first saw it done, my reaction was “not in this lifetime.” Now, though – now I just have to face the absurdity of my fear. Lack of strength, lack of flexibility – these aren’t real barriers anymore. I’m just afraid of falling face first. Into a fluffy pillow.
How ridonkidonk is that? I feel like I should donate my body to science, while I’m still alive. Because even with a pillow there to land on, and a teacher there to catch me, I could not fall. My mind would not let it happen, so my body did everything it could to resist. Absurd.
This was on Friday. The night before, I paid three times as much for parking as I did for a concert ticket to an amazing performance by talented musicians. Absurd.
Friday afternoon, as I’m walking my dogs, I see neighbor guy pulling a case of bottled water out of his trunk, then lugging it up the stairs to his home. A totally ordinary sight, yet I’m amazed. We have built our entire society upon this rad idea of indoor plumbing where clean water is right there, in your house, at all times. Instead, we’d rather have different water, and will drive miles and pay extra just to get it. Absurd.
We went camping near Big Bear this weekend. I’ve missed the forest so much, yet had to be cajoled into going because I don’t like getting stuck on the freeway, when in fact we only end up in heavy traffic for a few minutes of most trips. Absurd.
And if I hadn’t already been living with this heightened sense of absurdity, Oktoberfest would have brought it out for sure. Giant tankards of beer, polka music. That I expected. But people of all ages dressed up in lederhosen, braids, suspenders, and feather-bedecked hats, mixed in with people of all ages wearing their typical casual wear, cheerfully singing, “McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut! McDonalds, McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Pizza Hut!” I’m not sure anything could have prepared me for that.
Its all good. But I’ll be working on pillow face plants instead of the fast food dance this week. I guess it is my preferred type of absurdity.