My Family: Now With More Crazy!

A few years ago I began practicing yoga in my bedroom. I was feeling sort of sedentary and poofy around the edges, having just started my first office job, one which required me to commute in a vehicle and then sit on my butt all day. Because I wanted to keep eating as many chips as possible I thought I would do some yoga, just to tone up my muscles.

I had taken one group class a few months before but I preferred to practice at home, with a book from the library to guide me. I enjoyed the breathing and the stretching and the feeling of having taken some time to pay attention to all the parts of my body that usually got squished or contorted or just plain used without much fanfare.

When I mentioned to my mom that I was doing yoga she was interested and pleased. She mentioned in a conversation with my aunt (her sister) that I was doing yoga (because that’s the kind of family we have, where relatively inconsequential details are shared in lengthy telephone conversations) and was very surprised when my aunt was shocked and appalled.

My aunt is a Fundamentalist Christian. Most of the time, she is quite reasonable and fun to be around. (We put the “fun” in “fundamentalist” – a bumper sticker I think she’d appreciate) If you don’t bring up homosexuality, abortion, the federal or provincial governments and their respective priorities – the usual stuff one wouldn’t think to discuss with an FC unless one was looking for a futile discussion to bash one’s brains against – she is just like any other aunt. And you would have thought, as my mother did, that exercise, regardless of its origin, was a safe topic.

But Oh dear, said my aunt, aren’t you worried that Cheesefairy will be corrupted by the evil influences of meditation? And incense?
Er, said my mother, No…I believe she will develop some muscle, maybe some grace and dexterity and perhaps relax a little. Which would be good, I think.
Well, it starts with exercise, intoned my aunt, but it ends with HEATHEN DEVIL WORSHIP! (perhaps not verbatim)

And we added “yoga” to the list of things we don’t discuss with auntie. (Pilates is OK. So is Tai Chi.)

I tell you this story because this morning’s news, once it finished its 25 minute coverage respecting the wishes of the sextuplet family to not be harrassed by the media (seriously, journalists, stop filming the admitting department of the hospital and MOVE ON), told me about some parents in BC’s interior who wish to have yoga removed from a physical education curriculum for some reasons reminiscent of my aunt’s. And here I thought she was supa-crazy, even within the context of Fundamentalist Christianity. But no. Right on target.

Just wait till she hears about Goddessa and her Pits of Unstoppable Power! My word!

Dear FCs:
You have nothing to fear from the stretching exercises. Meditation (which I doubt they are doing in school anyway because can you imagine?) does not have to be prayer. To foster connection to your self, the self your God gave you to use, understand and respect, is not necessarily a religious act. Incense makes the room smell nicer (unless you’re allergic). And I bet Jesus would do yoga. There’s a man who needed to relax now and then.