Nearing the end of the class, the instructor veered towards slightly more meditative matters, speaking in the typical calm, soothing voice as we maintained the "corpse pose" (aka laying on the floor).
"This is the time to take account of how you're feeling, note any muscle soreness or kinks... don't judge it, just note it." Thankfully, I had no kinks to even consider judging. "...This is also a good time to make a resolution for yourself. Maybe it's just getting to bed an hour earlier, or eating healthier.... There are no right answers."
Wait. Wait wait. "There are no right answers"? My mind immediately leapt from attempting not to smirk at the idea of "judging" a muscle cramp to pondering over the apparent Freudian slip, totally skipping the whole "meditative" phase. Namely, most would say there are no wrong answers. No right answers? What an interesting thought... she certainly hadn't reversed it intentionally, but what intrigue. No right answers... take what comes and deal with it, but don't necessarily expect to find a correct answer, a solid resolution.
The slip also temporarily transported me back to Ghana, where, in a death-ride of a trip from Accra to Cape Coast, I saw painted on a wall "Count your blessing." Note: blessing, not blessings. Unintentional, but somehow painfully true as I looked around at the state of the country and the level of poverty of the majority of its citizens - you may not have much going for you, they said, but appreciate what little you do have.
Both instances were unintentional, I'm sure, and it is very possible that, as per the usual, I relegated more thought to each than would be the norm... but they're intriguing ideas nonetheless.
For better or for worse, my moment of yogi-style philosophy was interrupted as the instructor topped off her list of possible resolutions with holding the door for people, as it can be in some ways spiritually helpful for you, the door holder... and, well, I just lost any inspiration towards the serious. While I fully support courteously holding the door for others, suggesting in a slow, soothing tone that it will increase my spiritual health was just too much, particularly with the kink-judging still in mind.
It is a good thing, however, that I opted out of resolving to go to bed an hour earlier - clearly it is far too late for that. Time to hit the hay, at this ungodly hour. Namaste.