I’m kind of one of those people that can’t sit still. I’m always doing something (or ten things) and probably fidgeting and thinking of 30 other things to do at the same time. And so, this brought me to yoga.

I originally thought yoga was stretching for soccer moms and the elderly, but as someone who spent high school PE tanning on the football field while eating vending machine snacks, it thoroughly kicked my A-S-S. And as it turns out, I am sooooo stressed about being able to hold up my plank position for three more breaths that I don’t think about anything else. So it’s actually kind of relaxing (ish).

I do, however, get a bit insulted when the 105-yr-old woman next to me holds her plank longer than I can.

Anyway, so as someone who can never relax, yoga has been a nice release. Until a few weeks ago.

So there I was, dying of hyperventilation/suffocation/asphyxiation (typical), when finally we get the absolute JOY of lying back down on the mat.

And I’m like, Oh thank GOD, I can breathe again and the mat is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, when for some reason, I decide to open my eyes a teeny bit.

I should also mention at this time that I have an absolutely crippling fear of spiders.

So I do the only logical thing I can.

I squeal and jump into the corner and cower with my mat.

Unfortunately for me, everyone else in the class fails to notice that I am THISCLOSE to being, like, killed.

I am frozen in terror and then I realize the woman next to me is judging me. Now first of all, she is the one of the strangest body shapes I have ever seen in real life. She is so pear-shaped, she is more pear than human. When most people say that term, they mean just the torso. This person's entire body is a pear. It’s really like just a normal pear, but human-sized and with eyes and stuff.

My fear of spiders, however, does not care that I am being eye-mocked by a pear. So I just keep vigilant in my corner and stare at the spider.

Finally, The Pear has enough of me.

I think I muttered “uhhhm… thank you..” and uncurled my mat to resume yoga pre-spider-induced-paralysis.

But I can’t possibly relax now.

Because I won’t know if it happens again!

Maybe one day I’ll see a little speck on the floor.

And I’ll be all, “oh it’s a speck whatever la la la”.

But it won’t be a speck.

And now I spend yoga practicing vigilance instead of meditation.