Pull Up A Chair

Sometimes it's nice to rest your keppy on a chair. 

In my lifetime, I've done many exercise-related things to stay fit. Schlepping weights up and down. Schlepping myself up and down, round and round, here and there. Schlepping is the operative word. Let's face it, nice people. Fitness involves schlepping, am I right? If I'm not, please keep it to yourself. You know how fragile I am. I just want everyone to love me all the time. That's all. But back to all that schlepping. At a certain point, a rapidly aging goddess such as myself says, "Enough already with the schlepping." Yes, at a certain point, it's time to own up to one's limitations and say, "Namastay in this comfy chair." But then, sitting is supposed to be bad for you. Quelle dilemma! You just can't win. What to do? I'll tell you what to do.

The solution arrived yesterday courtesy of one of my students, a delightful lighting wiz named Jane. Without warning, Jane ordered us to participate in Chair Yoga. "I teach it, you know," she said. No one knew. But we know now. Cue the music. Justin Timberlake, "Can’t Stop The Feeling!” And there we were, the six of us, following Jane as she took us through yoga-style sweeping salutations and stretches, and we never had to budge off our bottoms. It was way too much fun. And once again, I learned something wonderful from one of my Laughing At Lifers. Am I a lucky SJG, or what?

So next time you see me, if I'm bent over, don't panic. I haven't fainted, I'm not dead, God forbid. I'm just setting my intention upside down. Pull up a chair and join me, won't you?