So I was laying on my yoga mat Tuesday, pressing my forehead
into the ground, as is my wont, when it occurred to me that I have
entered a new stage in my life.
The stage?
The stage wherein I successfully cage my inner monkey.
There we were, in the yoga studio. The temperature in the room is this side of “Bake”,
the humidity just short of awakening the vestigial gills I’ve been holding on
to for just such an occasion. Perspiration
rolling off us, we are contemplating the next move (“you will plant your hands
on your mat, shoulder-width apart, tuck your knees up into your armpits and
simply lift yourself off the ground”). We are inches from each other, breathing
deeply and rhythmically.
Breathe in.
Yessiree, Bob, there we are: just me and 49 of my favorite
people (between the hours of 5:30 and 6:30 p.m.).
And it wasn’t long ago that my brain would’ve chosen this
very moment to ricochet with distracted, babbling thoughts. It’s too hot! Too
hot! What’s the temperature in here? How much longer before I can lay down and
play dead? Have I mentioned that it’s too hot?
Indulging my inner monkey is not why I go to yoga. She has to stop.
The monkey casts a sideways glance at the tepid moat of
sweat surrounding the mat of the man eight inches to my right and begins to
work on the comment that will keep me from concentrating. I successfully fight her back into the same
corner of my mind where I keep Metallica lyrics and the closing times of local
fast food joints. I promise her that we’ll look for trophy-sized cigarette
butts on the way home and watch Cops after my shower.
The monkey loves Cops.
Don’t get me wrong. The monkey keeps me entertained, says
terrible and amusing things I cannot repeat about the woman in the gold Spandex
and the odds of finding loose change in the folds that make up much of her
topography.
And it was the monkey who suggested I turn off my iPod Monday
morning and listen in on the disagreement between Pookie and Boo.
Frankly, Boo’s trippin’.
This is the same monkey, however, who makes obscene
references during solemn moments and encourages me to eat uncooked cake batter.
The same monkey who likes to inline skate drunk and quit my jobs.
She’s had a good run, that monkey.
Hey. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy her chattering. I’m not even saying that there isn’t room,
now and then, for the way she stares at my fellow commuters.
I’m saying that sometimes, she gets in my way.
And so I’m harnessing my inner monkey.
I welcome this new stage.
So it's monkeys in there that makes us do the things we shouldnt?
ReplyDeleteI think mine is a jackass.
Can I come to your yoga class please?
ReplyDeletei am all about freedom for monkeys...hehe...its pretty entertaining...smiles.
ReplyDeleteSo that's what you call it. B
ReplyDeleteMy inner primate is an orangutan who is still too entertaining for me to muzzle yet. She makes it bearable when the hairy man next to me on the Free Striders is slinging his sweat all over the place.
ReplyDeleteShow your inner monkey some love and don't tighten the harness too much-
For my part, I'm ALL MONKEY. It's the inner DOVE I have to channel, encourage, feed and grow! You're doing great, Pearl, to have the ratios turned right way round.
ReplyDeleteRosemary
Pearl, the monkey is a distraction, but a source of great joy. Harnessing this awesome power may not solve the world's energy crisis, but if handled properly you may achieve super powers. Be sure to use your powers for Good. Can you Handle The Monkey? Roth x
ReplyDelete:-)
ReplyDeleteIt's true the monkey is a source of amusement, but given the distractions of the last couple months, I think I've indulged the monkey enough for one year. :-)
I am, however, keeping her on retainer, specifically for blog-writing...
Don't let your monkey become a cymbal playing drone. She is wonderful for making me spit my morning coffee out at the monitor! ;-)
ReplyDeleteI call my monkey Carol. She is hidden most of the times, but when she spits out of me, it's holy hell. I want nothing to do with her and blame her rude behavior on a medical condition.
ReplyDeleteWHAT?!?!? Your inner monkey is FEmale? This goes against my past eXperience dealing with IM.
ReplyDeleteOn a darker note Cooper has learned to play in the water circle ditches around my grape vines, so I have a muddy mutt in a moat, a very happy one. I must now return outside to watch the progress of my self-cleaning canine .... but first coffee.
Hah .. I resumed reading and you too used the word moat in the very neXt paragraph! What are the odds of something so odd?
ReplyDeleteI have an outer monkey who closely resembles King Kong or Godzilla or Raymond Burr, I forget...
ReplyDeleteI don't have an inner monkey, I have an evil twin. I don't know what would happen if I called her a monkey, but someone would have to pay!!
ReplyDeletecongrats on the monkey! good luck on the jackass. wonder who's next!
ReplyDeletesometimes my inner jackass refuses to remain within--then all hell breaks loose!
ReplyDeleteI kinda like that concept. I certainly have an inner Somebody who could be way nastier than I ever admit to being...if I allowed her the freedom. This post may be responsible for a whole new split personality stage of my life. But if it's useful to curb your monkey's freedom for a time, I congratulate you on finding your way there.
ReplyDeleteAnd it seemed crowded in your head when we only knew about the little old crass guy and the monkey. Now there's a jackass too? 'Fess up, now, what's the total head count?
ReplyDeleteDelightful :)
The monkey could ride off on the jackass, sorta like the Bremmerton musicians. But, you might hate to lose them.
ReplyDeleteI've heard monkeys are very difficult to harness. It has something to do with being able to use their feet as hands. They just keep getting out of the straight jacket.
ReplyDeleteSo, your flying monkey is taking off? I'm going to miss her.
ReplyDeleteWell done Pearl. My inner monkey insists on fart jokes. Every yoga class. Without fail.
ReplyDeleteHmmmm, inner jackass, i like the sound of that
ReplyDeletePerhaps the monkey could write a weekly post for you? It could be the vicarious monkey for all of us.
ReplyDeleteOh? Good luck with that.
ReplyDeleteI hope we don't miss the Monkey too much!
ReplyDeleteHeat, yoga, sweat, monkeys...yep...works for me.
ReplyDeleteI have years to go before I reach that stage of enlightenment where I might consider harnessing my inner monkey.
ReplyDeleteI'd like to hear what your monkey is whispering because then I'd crack up and fall over in your yoga class. I think my monkey and yours must be related because I think those things too!
ReplyDeleteI propose a steady diet of Zagnut bars and fruitcakes. Monkeys hate Zagnut and fruitcakes.
ReplyDeleteIn that case, hon, kindly forward the uncooked cake batter. Thanks.
ReplyDeletePS Your writing is always delightful, even when sweaty, smelly and highly distracted.
xoRobyn
mine is a dinner monkey.
ReplyDeleteI'm using this at work. "Sorry, boys, I simply cannot be my usual chattering, maniacal self any longer. I'm harnessing my inner monkey."
ReplyDeleteI can't wait to hear the comebacks on that one.
NOOOO! We LOVE the monkey- the monkey and the metallica lyrics - best part of just about everything ! Do NOT stifle , do not send Ms. Monkey into the corner...we won't have it!
ReplyDeleteYOU be trippin'!!!
You know what helps? Spanking the monkey!!
ReplyDeleteWould your monkey like some company?
ReplyDeleteI'd dearly love to get rid of mine.
Harnessing is good, but don't forget to be prepared for when the monkey cuts loose.
ReplyDeleteTell me more!!! HOW?! ; )x
ReplyDeleteI want someone who is all monkey, all the time. I am at my best when people are at their worst. So, not only would everybody like me if I had a giant monkey friend, but I would also be highly entertained by her antics.
ReplyDeleteYou're harnessing yours, just when I"m thinking about setting mine free.
ReplyDelete