Monologues for women | "The Farting Yogi" by Gabriel Davis
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The Farting Yogi
A comedic female monologue from the play Yoga Fart
by Gabriel Davis
So I'm in my yoga class. Our instructor tells us to get into Sukhasana. Sit cross legged basically. He tells us we should feel relaxed and at home in the pose. I try but ... it smells funny in the yoga studio today.
I heard of this blogger in the city called the Farting Yogi. All she does is visit yoga classes and fart bomb them. Then she "exposes" the people who are not zen with it all. I'm pretty sure she's directly to my left. Her downward dog smells like downward dog doo doo.
So, our teacher decides to start with a healthy round of kundalini breathing. It's called Breath of Fire and my nose feels like its on fire! I try to breathe out of my mouth instead, but the instructor locks eyes with me and tells the whole class, "Breath of Fire must flow through the nose" He tells us to not let anything break our focus, called Drishti. But the smell of shitsky is breaking my Drishti!
I peer around the room and I'm not the only one. A few people are actually getting up with their mats and leaving. The instructor looks a little concerned, he says, "Today, I'd like to talk about the foundational yogic principle of Ahimsa or First, do no harm." One lady says loudly "tell that to whoever is harming our noses!"
The instructor looks a little shaken. He says, "in yoga, we extend compassion to our fellow beings. We put ourselves in their shoes. If the smell in here seems harmful, imagine how holding that smell inside must have felt. Perhaps painful?"
"Fuck this!" the lady says and storms out. A few more people follow her. The instructor continues "today, let's support each other, let's not keep our painful, smelly winds inside. Let's do the wind relieving pose together to release them!" He demonstrates the wind relieving pose. Basically, you lay on your back and use your leg as a pump to force all the farts out.
The sounds and smells that ensued were nothing short of horrible and nightmarish. As if the entire rooms were enveloped in a disgusting brown fog. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the source of all of this smiling broadly. She was enjoying it! But I didn't want to be one of those non-compassionate people who stormed out. I was determined to stick in there with whatever this was becoming.
So I tried, I tried to accept everyone's farts. I repeated our instructor's words "May all beings be happy, all beings be free." I told myself, we are all one, I am in everyone's farts and everyone's are in mine. I tried to lose track of where my farts end and everyone else's begin. I tried to be one with the farts and accept them.
But I didn't. My path to enlightenment will not be paved with farts. I did not end up enlightened, only nauseous.
This monologue is from the play Yoga Fart available digitally and in print here.
I heard of this blogger in the city called the Farting Yogi. All she does is visit yoga classes and fart bomb them. Then she "exposes" the people who are not zen with it all. I'm pretty sure she's directly to my left. Her downward dog smells like downward dog doo doo.
So, our teacher decides to start with a healthy round of kundalini breathing. It's called Breath of Fire and my nose feels like its on fire! I try to breathe out of my mouth instead, but the instructor locks eyes with me and tells the whole class, "Breath of Fire must flow through the nose" He tells us to not let anything break our focus, called Drishti. But the smell of shitsky is breaking my Drishti!
I peer around the room and I'm not the only one. A few people are actually getting up with their mats and leaving. The instructor looks a little concerned, he says, "Today, I'd like to talk about the foundational yogic principle of Ahimsa or First, do no harm." One lady says loudly "tell that to whoever is harming our noses!"
The instructor looks a little shaken. He says, "in yoga, we extend compassion to our fellow beings. We put ourselves in their shoes. If the smell in here seems harmful, imagine how holding that smell inside must have felt. Perhaps painful?"
"Fuck this!" the lady says and storms out. A few more people follow her. The instructor continues "today, let's support each other, let's not keep our painful, smelly winds inside. Let's do the wind relieving pose together to release them!" He demonstrates the wind relieving pose. Basically, you lay on your back and use your leg as a pump to force all the farts out.
The sounds and smells that ensued were nothing short of horrible and nightmarish. As if the entire rooms were enveloped in a disgusting brown fog. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the source of all of this smiling broadly. She was enjoying it! But I didn't want to be one of those non-compassionate people who stormed out. I was determined to stick in there with whatever this was becoming.
So I tried, I tried to accept everyone's farts. I repeated our instructor's words "May all beings be happy, all beings be free." I told myself, we are all one, I am in everyone's farts and everyone's are in mine. I tried to lose track of where my farts end and everyone else's begin. I tried to be one with the farts and accept them.
But I didn't. My path to enlightenment will not be paved with farts. I did not end up enlightened, only nauseous.
This monologue is from the play Yoga Fart available digitally and in print here.
