Humor Magazine

Distracting the Monkey

By Pearl
I wipe away my sweat mustache. 
The man on the mat next to me does so as well, which, given our proximity, seems almost intimate. 
But to tell the truth, in a class this size, we’re all almost intimate.
I close my eyes, breathe in deeply.  I don’t come here to criticize, I remind myself.  I come here to focus, to stretch, to embrace the beauty found in an absence of thought, to leave the clutter of my life on the winter-grit dirty sidewalk, and to –
-- pretzel yourself next to perfect strangers!  The monkey in my head chatters gleefully. Eeee-Eeeee-Eeee! 
Oh, shut up, I think.
The man next to me grunts.  Sweat runs off his outstretched arms, pools on the floor between us.
The monkey grabs the inside of my skull, pulls himself up and plants himself behind my eyes. 
Holy cow!  Look at him sweat!  Oooooh!  Have you seen his feet?  What’s up with those toes, huh?  And where’d he get that hair?  Thatch!  Absolute thatch!  Hey – do you know where the phrase “raining cats and dogs” comes from? I'm bored!
The monkey goes on for several minutes, from his opinion on a thick head of hair to the tensile grip strength found in your longer toes.
Oh, shut up, I think.
I pull up into Mountain Pose, then fold forward, attempt to press my nose between my shins.  The sweat runs from my face into my hairline, distracting the monkey, who revels in the feel of it.
I put my hands on the floor, press back into Downward Facing Dog: feet hips' distance apart, head down, butt in the air: I am a human V.
Distracting the Monkey
"Breathe in, and breathe out," intones the yogi.  "Let your head hang heavy.  For the truly advanced out there, look under one armpit, say "hi" to your neighbor."
The monkey jabbers, rolls his eyes.
I turn to my left:  Amy.  I grin at her from under my armpit.  "Hey, Amy!"
She smiles:  "Hey!"
"Now turn your head, look to the other side," the instructor says.  "And say hello to the nice human being."
The monkey throws his arms into the air:  Eeeee!  Eeeee!  Eeee!
I turn my head.  The man with the running sweat, fabulous head of hair, and funky toes grins at me.
"Hi," he says.
I smile back.  "Hi."
And the monkey rolls his eyes again, gives up and goes elsewhere in search of distraction.  It's no fun criticizing someone who smiles at you.

Back to Featured Articles on Logo Paperblog