This blog isn't actually about the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld. It is instead about the Yoga Nazi, that being me.
I was at Yoga yesterday, got there a bit early and was trying to get into the correct, peaceful frame of mind for the class. The only thing standing between me and this admirable goal was the blonde girl conversing merrily away with a chinese gentleman. They weren't whispering, they were chatting.
After a bit of sitting and huffing and thinking, I finally went over to them to suggest, very politely, that they go outside if they wanted to chat. Being quiet in the Yoga room is one of the rules of the Club, I may add.
Having told them, the girl then pointed out that another couple were also talking, rather more quietly, it must be said. So I had to go and ask them to be quiet. Then on the way back to my mat, another pair started up, so I had to ask them also.
By the time I got back to my mat I was fuming, felt like the form prefect, and far away from the state of transcendental magnificence I had hoped to achieve.
It turned out that most of the chatters hadn't been to Yoga very much at all.
I mention all this as my friend FMG, when presented with the same situation some weeks ago, elected to do nothing and sulk quietly. This didn't seem to do her peace of mind any good either.
So next time, I'm going to bring my iPod in there to block out the noise. I wonder if anyone will come over to talk about the tsh tsh tsh noise they can hear from my headphones.
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2 comments:
You know, I think the thing to do might be to Appeal to Someone in Charge.
That way, they get to take the weight; they have more authority anyway because they work there; it works and the chatters shut the f*ck up; and you get to retire to your mat, in splendid isolation, with your zen state of calm intact.
On the other hand it might all backfire: the Person in Charge is scared of the chatters and gestures helplessly in a go-away sort of fashion; the chatters get wind of the fact that you, and who do you think you are, are going behind their back to interfere with their divine right to guffaw mindlessly to each other; and you have to live out the rest of your session pinioned to your mat by the hate-filled stares of your fellow yoga practitioners.
The decision is yours!
Truly it's a situation with no ready solution. Especially when, as you know, we are both sometimes guilty parties as well as those irritated by the chatees.
BTW FMG???
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