Angry yoga

I’m mad, and so I’ll meditate.

I don’t particularly want to meditate, mind you, but yoga is my go-to solution because it’s the least destructive way I know of to cope with my problems.

It’s funny, how well I can pull off the Zen thing at times (see previous post) and how at others I just want to sob hysterically and throw shit at the wall.

Right now is one of those times. I’m reacting to some upsetting news, and even though ultimately it changes nothing about my life, well, that’s sort of the problem. I’m ready for my life to change! I have been working hard for months, keeping positive, staying open…so where the hell is the payoff?

Yes, I know that’s not how things work, but in these types of “why me” meltdown moments, I have to admit that the yogic, all-is-okay-so-just-chill-out-and-take-a-deep-breath approach seems like a load of crap. (YOU take a deep breath!)

Since I don’t usually write posts when I’m in a bad mood, you might get the impression I’m always calm, collected, and reflective. But, wrong. I get pissed and irritated and sometimes I feel like using my rolled-up yoga mat as a baseball bat and smashing in a few windshields.

Of course, not only is foam an ineffective way to break glass, but that behavior is hardly an appropriate way to experience my emotions.

A less violent and more socially accepted choice would be to hit the bars after work and simply drink down my distress. Don’t think I haven’t considered it.

But alcohol is a depressant and I’m already sad enough, not to mention angry, and no good has ever come of mixing alcohol and outrage.

So. Default. Yoga. I can be as grouchy as I want, and not only will I hurt no one, I might even feel better afterward.

I hope.