This Week in “Why I am Still Poor”

Rage Yoga, everyone.

Rage Yoga is a thing that I should have invented, but didn’t.

And because of ideas that I have in my head that I don’t even know I have until someone makes it a thing and profits off it, I will forever be poor.

Rage yoga hasn’t come to NY yet – it is far away in the magical land of Canada where every amazing thing happens. Plus, even if I DID decide to take off with it here, I would be doing someone else’s thing. And technically I would not be able to do it because I only practice yoga (and when I say “practice” I mean, in the loosest term imaginable… ) and am not certified to teach it.

So oh well.

Anyway – Rage Yoga is the brain child of this gorgeous woman who looks like she does yoga 23 hours a day (the other hour she probably devotes to Savasana). Her name is Lindsay Istace and she also has the perfect shade of red hair that I have been attempting to achieve for years now, and never could get.

 

Rage yoga

I have since given up on all of that red shenanigans because I am not only fighting off brown roots, but gray ones as well.

Lindsay’s motto in Rage Yoga is to be  “Zen as F#ck”. Or, F*ck. I am not sure if the symbols have been put in all the articles to protect the poor children’s eyes out there, but the message is perfectly clear: the word is FUCK, And cursing is to our psyches as downward dog is to our hamstrings. It stretches shit out. Clears out the soul. Makes you all shiny and new.

I could have told all you fuckers that ages ago. But… I don’t have the body, hair, credentials, or brain power to pull it off as flawlessly as Lindsay.

So…. I will just go back to cursing while I land on my chin AGAIN trying to do crow pose and move on with my life.

Rage Yoga is held a few times a week in a BAR (this lady is officially my girl crush) and its a vinyasa class set to heavy metal music where you just get to yell out curses while you are doing your poses.

Ironically, I do this anyway, but since I am alone in my tiny yoga room its not quite the scene as it is in a bar full of sweaty strangers.

Also you stay and drink beer after.

Funny – I do that alone a lot of the time as well.

All of my bad habits could be making me a mint. But I just let them destroy my life for free.

I should do something about that. But who am I kidding.

Apparently not everyone in shiny-happy-yoga-in Lululemon-land approves of F-bombs and skunk beer when trying to achieve nirvana, but different strokes and yada yada…

It is nice to know that in this age of seeking enlightenment, you can still do it while doing all the things that have nothing to do with enlightenment.

Like getting drunk and cursing.

Excuse me as I continue to march down the road to enlightenment one scowl at a time.

 

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2 thoughts on “This Week in “Why I am Still Poor”

  1. Oh Canada (to which I am returning if he-who-shall-not-be-named becomes President of the Lower 48!) Rage yoga, eh? And from such a polite, accommodating culture, no less! Bring it on!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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