Dear Yoga...

Dear yoga,

I just found out my 11-yr old sister got a blackberry. I was originally cranky, thinking “what the HELL does an 11-yr old need a blackberry for?” I don’t even have one, and I live in the town that dreamed them up, developed and produces them. I was preparing some witty, backhanded comment about divorcing parents tossing money at their kids out of guilt, hoping to win them over in the upcoming custody battle from hell and to be the “favorite” parent in the match up between Mommy and Daddy. You know - to be the parent that bends the rules, lets you stay up late and eat ice cream for dinner while watching tv or whatever is “not allowed” for kids now. I was going to send out a message to my Mom and Dad letting them know that I’m still distraught from their divorce 18 years ago, and that Suzie sure could use a new Chevy Colorado - which I have more use for as a yoga teacher than an 11-yr old does a blackberry…. just sayin’.

But then you stepped in, with your extra perspective and understanding soul. I went and taught a class to some of my most awesome students (you all are - for the record). I then came home to a couple facebook responses to my “My ELEVEN year old sister has a blackberry” comment, including one from my Mom stating “how sad” (she was clearly not the giver of this device). Instead of being mad or upset about it now, I was thinking “hey - this ridiculous purchase is actually supporting my awesome little town.” It’s thanks to these financially over-privileged parents (and the millions of businesses and executives worldwide) that my this town gets to keep growing through a recession.

Now lets not get carried away, I’m not exactly beaming with pride that my eleven year old sister (and my 18 and 25yr old ones as well) is parading somewhere around Buenos Aires with a blackberry bolted to her hip. It still boggles my mind as I think back to what I was doing and allowed to do at eleven. But considering I went to teach this class with the urge to turn the blackberry-purchaser’s face into my own personal UFC training bag, I’d say that you worked some magic. You were able to turn my anger and frustration around to look at the more constructive side of things. Hell, I even want to congratulate RIM for somehow turning a pretty boring communication device intended for stuffy executives into something eleven year old girls are losing their minds over. Bravo on the marketing of that one!

Yoga, please understand, while I like seeing the divine in all beings and I think it’s great to give people a little kindness and understanding, sometimes… and this might hurt to hear, sometimes I just want to be mad. But I understand, you’re simply doing what it is you do, making the world a slightly better place today than it was yesterday. So I’m trusting you to work your magic, and I’m doing my best to keep those punches to myself.

I’m sure we’ll be in touch.


PS. To all you readers out there living in the town where Chevy designed and produces their Colorado’s - you’re welcome in advance. My parents will come to their senses soon and realize that my emotional wounds are still bleeding fresh blood and I’m still on the fence about who I love more. I’ll be thinking of you as I drive my new truck to the studio.