It's Getting Hot In Here

11:30 am. Strong, steady, 90-minute sweat session led by a favourite of yours and mine, Dave, the subtle powerhouse.

As I position my toes and heels together in the center of my mat and interlace my fingers for pranayama, I smile. Wobbling a little out of first-set awkward pose, I smile. Dave leads us through the always intense, focused second set of standing head to knee, encouraging normal breathing and a "smiling, happy face" -- I feel the tickle of my lips turning upward as I relax into the tremendous effort and hold solid the posture.

Class becomes dreamlike, as I float calmly through every breath, movement and muscle contraction. I want to be nowhere but in the moment, marveling at how dewy I am -- both in physical appearance and bliss between the ears. I allow a thought into the cloud of content fighting gravity to enable such a lightness in me it may threaten levitation. The question that forms in the air upstairs asks, "Have I done it? Have I gotten to the elusive place in my practice of effortless effort?" Either way, it seems all-too familiar, feeling vaguely reminiscent of another activity I enjoy that makes me sweaty and incredibly relaxed. Ah. So this is why I waltzed into class today, hydrated not by water -- like a good yogi -- but a double mocha with whipped cream -- like Allison.

Come to think of it, I arrive to class "unprepared" often and without apology. Of particular intrigue to me is how my practice seems completely unaffected. I get it now. Inside out, bones to the skin, fingertips to the toes (for those not part of the cult-like brand of yoga I teach and take, this is Bikram-speak), when I hit the mat, at least a piece of my gray matter big enough to exert visible influence is in my sex space. If my heart ends up there too, I'll start to get worried -- but the honing of pleasure, relaxation and the abandonment of expectations I've brought into my yoga have served me very well.  I practice as often as possible, with everything that I am and all that I have -- an approach most of us would do well to adopt both in the hot room and in the heated one.

Cutting Back on the Sugar

Today I played (as my girlfriend Wendy likes to put it) "hooky from life" for a couple of hours and took myself to see Friends With Benefits -- a well-chosen escape from the torrential showers responsible for taking the banality of E-town to a whole new level. There is a vaguely Vancouver feel here at the moment -- humid, grey and wet -- but without the mountains, ocean and green space.

Having spent some quality time this morning pouring over the latest issue of Women's Health (mostly because Rosie Huntington-Whiteley is on the cover and who doesn't enjoy staring at her) at Cafe Remedy with a mocha and a delightful lemon-pistachio square, I thought it prudent to continue my appreciation of the great indoors at the Cineplex.

This was my kind of movie -- hot people doing hot things in the totally stunning, impressive surroundings of New York and LA. Justin Timberlake (although somewhat overly effeminate for my taste) and Mila Kunis (always stunning) paraded their sweet little asses around, giving us a realistic taste of the kind of sex everyone wishes they were having -- you know, the kind in which each partner knows exactly how to please the other; they realized a fantastical carnal connection simply because they bossed each other around until both got it right. Because they agreed on the terms of their liaisons -- no emotional connection being important -- before hitting the sheets, hurt feelings weren't a factor. No sugarcoating. Imagine if we lived even one or two aspects of our lives being completely straightforward. I think the abundant benefits would outweigh any initial harm.

Straight shooter Tommy (an exceptionally cast Woody Harrelson) sums it up for JT's emotionally reserved Dylan when he shares his rules to live by: "If you want to lose weight, stop eating; if you want to make lots of money, work your ass off; if you want to be happy, find someone you love and never let her go." An astute, fantastic message. Sometimes, I fear we are so delicate with our words (both in communicating with ourselves and others) we impede positive growth.

Ricky gave it to us on the level in class this afternoon in encouraging us not to give up when the going got tough. As students dropped like dominoes, he shared sound reasoning: "you came here to work hard, so do it. Get the most you can today out of your experience here."

I had come to the studio heavy with melancholia and the too-recent Monte Cristo I'd had for lunch and gotten just what I needed from such effective leadership. Ricky drove the bus with a proclivity worth emulating. He was inclusive, leaving no one (even those who tried to escape or lie low) behind. That is exactly how it should be. I hope most people don't pay to coast through class in a way they could practicing on their own in their bathroom. I hope they come to be inspired and transform in ways they may have never thought possible. For me, with growth has come clarity. I am slowly realizing the real sources of happiness in my life, how I can give to and receive from them what I need to do more than merely put one foot in front of the other.