So, uh, who’s going to Pot Yoga???
The class I attended had about 20 people in it (usually there are more like 10-15, but this session was free) and was pretty diverse. One dude said he tweaked his back doing parkour and needed a good stretch. A middle-aged man revealed he started coming after suffering a mild heart attack two months ago and found the relaxation therapeutic and healing. A couple regulars said they attend class because they like the Zen way it starts their week. While another guy shared: “I like smoking weed.” The class was a nice little microcosm of the city’s pot smokers and was slightly more diverse in age and race than you’d find at most bars in the city -- ah, the uniting powers of free weed and yoga.
What’s the yoga like?
After circle time, Dee dims the lights (bless her), turns on some ambient red lighting, and lights a couple candles, signaling the beginning of class. Even if you’ve never done yoga before, you won’t have any trouble following Dee’s cues and many of the positions will feel familiar and easy to you. And as Dee will remind you often, you can do whatever feels good for you and your practice. Take a break, take a few puffs, crawl into the fetal position (child’s pose isn’t much different), or simply gaze at the ceiling, which is painted like a night sky (YES). Anything goes in this darkened, hazy room -- and don’t worry, no one is looking or thinking about you. They’re likely too high to notice.
The class starts with a brief meditation as Dee guides you through a few breaths. There’s something deeply relaxing and hilarious about having someone tell you how to breathe, which is what I was pondering when I became momentarily distracted by the fact that a remix of the theme song from Ghost was playing softly from the boom box in the corner. Usually in my regular yoga classes, this is when I’d get irritated at myself for not fully “checking in with my body,” whatever the fuck that means. But thanks to my slightly altered mood, I just laughed a little, imagined Patrick Swayze spinning clay, and happily drifted to the next thought, whatever it happened to be. Is this meditating? I’m not sure, but it felt awesome.
Next up: Cat-cow pose, performed on hands and knees. I knew I was getting lost in the practice and my new consciousness when I started saying cat-cow over and over in my head.