Photo: Wikimedia Commons
It’s been a few weeks since I got out of my routine of going to yoga classes (mainly because of my work schedule), so I decided to get back into my routine by starting with the beginner’s class today. I’ve been to this class many times and can probabaly consider myself no longer a beginner, but I thought just to be on the safe side, I should ease my body back into doing yoga poses with an easy class.
And so, while I’m sitting there on the mat with my legs crossed, I realize I am looking up at my yoga teacher and listening attently, hanging on to her every word, much like I imagine Levon Ter-Petrosyan’s supporters do when they listen to him talk at an Armenian National Congress rally. And this of course reminded me of my recent post and I thought, “My yoga teacher is my god” (sacrilegious, I know, not to mention perhaps offensive to supporters of Ter-Petrosyan, or really any other “political force”).
Because I would rather have my yoga teacher running the country (if she so decided to do so) than a man who’s already had his run of politics. (And please don’t think for a minute that I support Sargsyan — or Kocharian, for that matter.)
Think of it: her words are guided by no other motive other than to have you feel your body, to listen to your body and do only what’s good for it. She speaks of releasing tension and living in a state of calm and gratitude.
She is herself the embodiment of calm.
Words such as conflict, territorial integrity and elections never leave her mouth (well, at least not in yoga class). She greets the students with a smile and ends with a bow, in an unassuming seated position, palms together and with that word of all words, “Namaste.”
Now when was the last time you heard an opposition leader or government official say that?