I *heart* Van

Like pretty much everyone in Vancouver, I enjoy yoga. I've even managed to introduce Scott to the idea, and we've started downloading video podcasts and following along in our living room. I'm pretty sure the neighbours think we're nuts, must start remembering to close the blinds first. But I digress. That's not the problem. My current problem is the complicated and kooky language of a lot of yoga instructors. I thought I was alone on this but Scott's much more hardline against fuzzy descriptions and instructions. Phrases like "spiral your thighs towards one another." ...What?? Or how about, "increase the space in between each of your ribs." What again? Neither of these movements are possible for me without extensive surgery. But the complication continues: it can take as long as 30 seconds for an instructor to describe "mountain pose." Which, really, is just standing on your feet. Seriously. What?

Which is why I've been waxing on and on for months about a guy named Van, a yoga instructor in Whistler that I met when I dropped in for a class while in the resort back in November. Honestly, I've been talking so much about Van that it's starting to border on obsession. And it's all because instead of telling his class to, "pretend a string links the top of your head to the sky," he just says, "Stand up straight." And instead of saying, "bring your left toe in line with your forehead while turning your heel inward," he just says, "Step forward." Ah. Now that's a breath of fresh air.