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Through 55 minutes of Vinyasa 2, there’d been no slips, zero human tears, and just one half of a calf cramp. As the lights dimmed, and we sat down on our mats, I knew it was time to celebrate this job well done, stretching out into absolute prone bliss. For me, savasana is the ultimate end-of-class treat, reconnecting body and breath, and a chance to give myself that proverbial pat on the back after some legitimate physical exertion. Yeah, too bad I’m not wired that way. Within moments of closing my eyes, the brain lifts the floodgates. Centered as I might be, my mind is now on a different kind of journey, and I just can’t stop it. Sure, I’m relaxing, but here’s what I’m actually thinking during savasana.
1. Does anyone like Enya?
The music is turned down, replaced by a calming silence and an immediate urge to judge the instructor’s choice of tunes over the last hour. While the sounds of indigenous beats from around the world helped channel energy into some of the more engaged poses, I can’t help but wonder how Enya and her whimsical ambient coconspirators have snuck onto every single yoga playlist ever produced. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.
2. Where do yogi quotes come from?
Every instructor has them, but where are they born? While we’re trying to quiet our minds, teacher is over here kicking some serious existentialism, and I just have to know: Is there a database of post-class knowledge available freely on the internet? Maybe it’s a group chat? WHERE IS THE GROUPCHAT?!
3. Did I leave the oven on? And other panic points
You’ve asked me to concentrate on breath and body for the last hour, but now the real world is coming back to knock on my brain door. Did I lock my keys in the car? Is rent due today? Did I wash this shirt? These bursts are small, but acute, things I may or may not have done before class and a reminder that I will eventually have to get up from this thin piece of perforated foam.
4. Am I going to get to the spray bottle first?
Even the best savasana comes to an end, but there’s still one more physical quest before class draws to a true close. These mats aren’t going to clean themselves, and I know as soon as the instructor whispers, “namaste,” the rush to claim that disinfectant spray is on. Should I cheat and get up early? I’d hate to pull a muscle stirring too fast, but waiting while 15 other people circulate the spray bottle? Oof, maybe a strained quad is worth it.
5. Did I fall asleep?
Don’t laugh, you’ve been there. Savasana is going well, too well. I have completely lost track of time and space, yogi quotes have multiplied and sound like they are coming from a sultry lounge singer, and…did I just nod off into Dreamland? I am half expecting to open my eyes to a dark and empty room with students and teacher hours gone and the door locked behind them. A loud snore interrupts my spiral—not mine, but the woman next to me. Phew. Nice try, savasana.
