Day 9 : Life Bucket List, Item #2

SATURDAY

Funny story: I tried yoga today.

It was supposed to help me relax, you know? Clear my mind, stretch my body, maybe even unlock some ancient wisdom about inner peace. Instead, I ended up looking like a clumsy giraffe trying to ice skate.

Let me paint you a picture. The instructor was this impossibly calm woman with glowing skin and the voice of a meditation app. This goddess-like figure with perfect posture and a voice so soothing it could lull a hyperactive toddler to sleep, told us to “focus on our breath.” Simple enough. I focused so hard I got dizzy and instead of finding inner peace, I almost choked on my own saliva.

Then came the downward dog. Sounds harmless, right? A glorified stretch, really. Except somehow, I lost my balance and toppled sideways like a drunk flamingo on roller skates.

I took the poor woman next to me down with me. Her yoga mat slid out like a cartoon banana peel, and her expression? Pure murder.

“Sorry! First time!” She didn’t say a word, just shot me a death glare that could’ve melted steel.

By the end of the session, I was sweating like I’d just run a marathon and limping because somehow, I managed to twist my ankle while standing still.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You’re supposed to feel zen after yoga,” Riya said when I called her later to rant about my ordeal.

“Yeah, well, I feel like a pretzel that got run over by a truck,” I muttered.

Of course, as I was laughing about it with Riya, my mind did that annoying thing where it wandered off to less funny places.

I replied, throwing a bag of frozen peas onto my ankle. “Inner peace is overrated.”

She laughed, but then, because she’s Riya and she loves to turn every ridiculous situation into a life lesson, she said, “Maybe that’s the point. You fell, but you got back up, right? That’s progress.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s call it progress.” I snorted. “Next time I fall, I’ll aim for a softer landing. Maybe into a pile of cushions.”

She sighed dramatically, like I’d just ruined her grand metaphor for life. “You know what your problem is?”

“Besides my lack of coordination?”

“You don’t take anything seriously. Not even yourself.”

She wasn’t wrong. I mean, who has time for serious when life is basically one big cosmic joke? But her words stuck with me anyway.

Later, as I was limping to the kitchen to make tea, I started thinking about what she said. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do laugh too much at things that aren’t funny because the alternative is... well, not something I’m ready to deal with.

It’s easier to make jokes about yoga disasters than admit that I tried it because I’m tired of feeling stuck. It’s easier to laugh about twisted ankles than talk about the weird tightness in my chest that never really goes away.

And maybe that’s okay. Maybe laughing at life’s messes is the lesson. The world’s chaotic, and we’re all just doing our best not to fall over—literally or figuratively.

So here’s what I’ve learned today:

1. Yoga is not for me.

2. Frozen peas are great for swollen ankles.

3. Falling isn’t the problem. Staying down is.

That last one? Sure Riya. I’ll let her have it.

Anyway, tomorrow’s a new day. Maybe I’ll try meditation. Either way, I might skip yoga next week. My ankle could use the break.

Or maybe I’ll just sleep in and call it “self-care.” Both feel equally productive.