Legalize Weed. Criminalize Gas Station Weed.
Between classes, one of my fellow teachers came up to me and whispered, “You and Katelyn should change your site name to herbasana.” I don’t know if he broadly winked, chuckled, and toddled off, but I think I got the picture: he would enjoy a blog about the intersection of yoga and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass more than beer.
Well friends, the point of beerasana is not to single out any particular leisure activity, vice, or trumpet-based music as the most suitable accompaniment to a yoga lifestyle, but rather to say that there IS no life that cannot be made richer through yoga practice. Be you a stoner, drunk, or nothing of the sort, you will benefit from yoga. Some people think you must have already achieved perfect enlightenment or decent sobriety or at least be able to touch your toes before attending class. This is rubbish. If we were already unicorn-perfect and superhero-strong and stripper-bendy, we could spend our days saving kittens from beneath burning train cars. But since we are merely normal and striving, how about we start by just showing up to class?
Yesterday a legalization activist sent me this graphic based on finding an old photo of my dad wearing his NORML t-shirt on my former website, so I’m posting it here. Try to make it to a mat tonight, and enjoy whatever it is you enjoy after. Oh, and kids, stay away from the GSW. That shit will make you stupid and/or dead.