May 24

Not a Huggy Guy?

A YOGI’S JOURNEY WITH PARKINSON’S – Volume 9

One interesting aside from my sharing the news that I have Parkinson’s occurred when a yoga student asked if it was OK to hug me even though I was “not a huggy guy.” After appreciatively accepting the hug, I wondered how I fell out of the category of “yoga hug-able”?

In pondering that question, I concluded there were a couple of unintentional factors involved in my self-created in-class hug-barrier.

In my early  years of teaching yoga, I was more often than not “single.” And, yes, I was “guilty” of dating yoga students (if you happen to consider that a crime). Since I was already skating on arguably ethical thin-ice, I may well have compensated by being less physically approachable in class to avoid any confused intentions (mine or anothers’).

Or maybe, my hug-apprehension came from glimpsing an alternative extreme. I remember attending a VERY popular yoga teachers’ class and being a bit put-off when the class was delayed because students had lined up to be anointed (literally) with some type of balm or ointment. The instructor would sensually rub some “supposed injury” or “body part needing attention” before ending with a long-held hug. I am not one to judge, but am one to recognize what does not work for me.

Back to the present, my relationship status is happily and steadily “committed”. My intentions are pure (It’s NOT “complicated”) and I don’t do “anointments”. That being said, feel free to share a hug if you are so inspired (as long as it does not interfere with class or come with a heavy waft of perfume).

Be Well!

 

If you are inspired, please visit 4 Ways You Can Help or simply DONATE

 

DISCLAIMER: The views expressed on this site are my opinions. My words should not be taken as a substitute for qualified medical expertise. This blog is designed to chronicle my journey, share what I learn in the process, and connect with others on a similar path.

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You can’t keep blaming yourself. Blame yourself once and move on.

~ Homer Simpson