yoga humor, yogini style, yoga personality, yoga tips - Y is for Yogini

confessions of a yogini { hoodrat, hoodrat, hoochie mama }

artwork credit: wurk.deviantart.com

This has shit to do with yoga...in the specific sense. Now, in the grandest scheme of things, well, it makes perfect sense.

I choose ringtones like I choose yoga mats, the perfect chunky ring, books, and who to wreak havoc upon for the day. So. Very. Carefully. So you'll understand the artful process it took for me to arrive at 2 Live Crew's Hoochie Mama.

Why the dulcet tones of the infamously raunchy?

1. When my perfectly-postured doctor, the sweet old lady nextdoor, or some hassling a-hole calls, I am amused to no end by associating them with this song. I like to envision what their faces would look like if they were able to hear it. And sometimes, on my way to the phone, I throw in a little grind for their imagined benefit.
2. You can't NOT be in a good mood, regardless of the nature of any call, when the intro song on the conversational soundtrack includes lyrics like, "Mama just don't understand why I love your hoochie ass."
3. When you're busy as hell and your life is stressful (and stress-filled), the only antidote is to shake your ass. Mine has a mind of its own when this song plays.

I try to find little moments every day — petit spaces to have some fun, lighten the mood, and keep my perspective.

So "f*ck what ya heard and save your drama, all I need is my Hoochie Mama!" Give 'er a whirl. Uberly satisfactory results guaranteed. I'm a big bootie ho. Aren't you?

The Crew and I send our love,

i ain't wit no marriage and a wedding ring { i'm a yoga player }

photo credit: stilablog.blogspot.com

For the uninitiated, that's a quote from a classic Too Short song. Now, we are just one little day away from the month of luuurve. February brings images of hearts, lovers' walks, technicolor sunsets, and rosy-cheeked cherubs. Huh.

I'm telling you right now, sure as sin, my intention for February:  to slut it up.

Yeah, you heard me. I'm a yoga player. Or at least, I intend to be. I'm going to spend this month stepping outside of my usual monogamist zone and into the red light district. I tend to only frequent my most favorite soul-titillating classes (who doesn't?!), so I'm thinking it's time to try new partners, just cause I'm feeling nasty. Ya dig?

The Yoga Harlot/I-Get-Around Plan:

1. 2 brand-spanking { ooh! } new classes each week. 
2. 5 new-to-me teachers for the month. { zow. lots more notches for the bed mat post! }
3. Try 2 new studios for the month. { perhaps one could be clothing optional. oh f*ck, who am i kidding? too shy for that. }
4. Optional: Amuse self { and others? } by wearing see-through leggings to 1 class.
5. Optional: Flirt shamelessly with hot yoga teacher by taking a cue from the Darth Vader breathers. Accompanied by eyelash-batting, he'll know what I'm getting at. { well...that, or he'll think I need medical attention. either way, this one's a winner. }

"I'm a player...and I'm playin' just to play." - Too Short

Yoga Hussies, holla at'cha girl. Let's do this! Only good can come of it.

{ Do you smell another series? Then you have an EXCELLENT sniffer. I'm going balls ovaries out this month + plan on having my wicked way with February's focus on love, luuurve, and gettin' it ON! Prepare yourselves. :P }

eleven sanskrit sayings { the 12 days of yoga }

On the 30th day of December, yoga gave to me

eleven sanskrit sayings...

{ ten tunes for tapas }

{ nine merry mantras }

{ eight gifts for giving }

{ seven chakras shocking }

{ six sirsas bobbing }

{ five moody mudras }

{ four heavy breathers }

{ three third eyes }

{ two turtle yogis }

{ and a yogini in the pose tree. }

Like my fellow yogi and yogini above, I am Sanskrit silly. I lurve Sanskrit and jump at the chance to learn new words. If you hang out here often { and golly, I sure hope you do! }, you've probably noted that I like to blend English with Sanskrit...and sometimes a bit of French or Italian. I'm kooky like that. Well, I think it's normal, but the bf says it's...different. Who cares?! I'm obsessed with words and languages and the beauty of a toothsome verse. :) 

I thought I might share a few of my favorite self-invented turns of phrase/Sanskrit hybrids.

 

11 Sanskrit Sayings:

1. Ain't that the Satya! { satya = truth }

2. As the kaka flies. { kaka = crow } :P an old idiom brought to new life!

3. Hmph! That show-off struts like a kukkuta! { kukkuta = rooster }

4. Now that's a janu-slapper. { janu = knee }

5. Boy you really put your pada in your mukha! { pada = foot, mukha = mouth }

6. Be still my anahata! { anahata = heart }

7. Pascima-Siiiide! { pascima = West } and you know the Westside is the best side. fo shizz.

8. Yow, you're on tejas today! { tejas = fire }

9. I'm going to count to panca and you better answer me.    { panca = five }

10. Sitalio! { sitali = cooling } so, you know, "coolio!" 

11. I feel the bhumi move under my feet. { bhumi = earth }

Fun, no? Try a few of these on for size or make up your own. Sanskrit is a beautiful language and making it yours in this kind of way brings familiarity and helps you learn!

 

Santi out, &*%$#*@! { uhhhmm...santi means peace if that was unclear. :P }

{ Holy December, only 1 day left! Until tomorrow, merry meet. }

yoga bell ringers { we're everywhere }

 artwork credit: redbubble.net

Today, one of my lovely dovely friends tweeted that she's grateful for the Salvation Army bell ringers. Coincidentally, I happened to be watching Friday (takin' it back to '95) and one of the soundtrack songs is "Keep Their Heads Ringin." The harmony of @SnowflakeYoga and Dr. Dre struck a chord in my mind. A thought loud and clear. As a bell.

As yogis and yoginis, WE ARE ALL BELL RINGERS. We're yoga bell ringers.

1. Every time you share a pose, whether you're a teacher or not, you're giving the gift of being present.
2. YTT rang my bell like nothing else. It woke me up with a sweet tinkling that rocked my world like a big ass church bell. And it's still ringing long after the initial ding and dong.
3. The reverberations of your bells are powerful. You wouldn't believe how far the tiniest bit of love goes.
4. Your bell is a voice, a sound-making instrument, in one form or another. Perhaps it's your eyes expressing empathy and kindness, your touch guiding others deeper into their own bodies, or a simple "Aum" said to yourself, just for you to hear.
5. My own bell has lots of tunes — sometimes it's hip-hop or 50s jazz, some days it's 70s rock or baroque classical. It's often set to soul. :) But whatever the tune, the message always has heart and my own special kind of yoga behind it. I try my best to ring true at every moment. Sure, I eff up sometimes, but I'm here. I'm awake and aware. It will be a lifelong journey. I'd say my bell probably sounds like brains, humor, spice, and eccentricity. :P
6. Speaking of Bells, I'm thinking of two you should meet: Charlotte Bell and Gwen Bell. Charlotte is a beautiful writer — you can find her at Hugger Mugger (and many other places). Her bell's song is intelligent, honest, and mellifluous.  Gwen is known for many interesting things, but her Reverb 10 project has certainly piqued my interest, involvement, and support. Gwen's bell sounds like inspiration and manifestation.
7. Come and ring my belllllll, ring my bell. Ring yours. Ring 'em all.

When was the last time your bell was rung? Have you been ringing lately? What does your bell's song express?

slim. calm. humpty?

photo credits: takethehandle.com + qpicture.com

{ PARENTAL ADVISORY: Explicit Lyrics. ALSO: Sense of Humor is a Prerequisite. }

By golly, I now know what became of Digital Underground's Humpty Hump (aka Shock G - so well known for his alter egos): he's Tara Stiles!!!! Know how I know? I'm pretty sure that in her book, Slim Calm Sexy, she says, "Yeah, I called you fat. Look at me, I'm skinny!" I know she didn't say the rest, "It never stopped me from gettin' busy, I'm a freak!" but maybe that'll be the next book. Slim Calm Skeezy? Anyway. Subtext, yo. Very telling.

Flip through the book (in a library or book store, for Patanjali's sake, DON'T buy it foo!), take a gander at the ads, then listen to the awesomely iconic Humpty Dance song and all will be crystal clear.

Humpty, for the love of all that is holy, please come back to us! I beg of you. Sure, you can stick with your yoga practice. But no more silly books with bad ads. It's just not you. I can't share yoga classes with people who've read Slim Calm Sexy. Too dangerous. They're going to be very, very hungry — existing on yoga and water thanks to your alter ego Stiles (size 8 to size 00 w/15 minutes of yoga a day? say wha?). They'll be grouchy at best and cannibalistic at worst. I am NOT edible.

I miss your big fake nose...the faux fur hat...and lyrics like, "I'm Shock G, the one who put the satin on your panties." Poetic.

Now stop all this nonsense and get back to what you do best. Perhaps a remix of Freaks of the Industry?

I'm spunky. I like my oatmeal lumpy.