Shame Asana

I farted in yoga tonight. Yeah. That’s right. As I was transitioning from a seated twist to some funky hips on your upper arms flying bird pose, ppppssssstttt. Unexpected. Unstoppable. Against the mat, so it echoed and everybody in my row turned to look. Everybody.

But I was cool. I was cool. I just smiled and shrugged—heyyyy, you know that’s how it goes, right? And tried to do said flying bird pose with as much inner calm—as much equanimity—as I could muster.