Yoga and toes, Yoga and toes--they go together like toga and clothes

Well, okay, I don’t have a clue what that was all about. It's just that lately I’ve been getting the biggest darned kick out of myself and the things I say! Like the other day when I couldn’t stop laughing at how funny the word ‘DIRT’ sounded and how funny I sounded saying it! 

But dirt is not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about yoga. 

And toes. 

I know, I know . . . yoga is not about the concentration on one’s tarsals at inopportune moments. Yoga is about connecting mind, body and spirit. It’s about re-learning the fine art of breathing. About losing yourself in the flow of the practice. It’s about building muscle memory, about toning the body, about calming the monkey mind and exploring a path toward inner peace. It’s about focusing on one thing at a time—one breath, one thought, one pose. It’s about centering.

It’s not—definitely not—about toes. Or at least not exclusively.

So then why is it that I’m often distracted by the condition of my own toes? I’ll be forward folded into Utanasana and find myself thinking, Dang! How’d that middle toe get so darned crooked? Is that the one I broke kicking a rooster back when I was in middle school? Yeah, it must be that one.

Or, I’ll be in Down Dog, another toe-staring pose and think, Wow do I ever need a pedicure! 

Or, in Clam pose thinking, Hey, I didn’t know I had a freckle on the end of that middle toe!

Sometimes, while I’m teaching, I’ll vocalize my concerns. Mainly to see if anyone else is thinking the same thing I am. “Is it just me or does this pose over extend the toes?” Sometimes I’ll get a nod of agreement. A grunt or two. Maybe a giggle. But more often than not, it's just stone silence and I end up thinking, “yep… just me.”

Barbara, my friend and yoga mentor, asked me once whether my toes were changing as a result of yoga. So naturally (and since Barb and I are always barefooted when we’re together) I looked downward, toward the objects of our discussion. Sure enough, the darned things did seem different! They’d spread a little further apart as a result of their extensive use. And I can't help but wonder whether it was her comment that made me focus more attention on them. I keep wondering how much longer, more crooked, less groomed they’ll become over time. I keep wondering why on earth I’m even paying so much attention to them!

So, tell me, is there any more useless thing to call one’s attention to than toes? Have I just wasted two minutes of your life by asking you to read about my fixation on the things? Two minutes that you’ll never get back! If so, I’m sorry. But you have to think of me! Obsessed to the point where I’m actually writing about the darned things. 

I suppose this is where I say how much I really need to get a life. Okay, fine . . . you say it.