The Possum accidentally joined yoga on a Wednesday night.
Which honestly?
Already felt like the kind of thing that would end badly.
The misunderstanding began because Glitter Falls Community Center had terrible signage.
A handwritten chalkboard outside the building read:
TONIGHT:
FLOOR PILLOWS
QUIET REFLECTION
GENTLE HEALING ENERGY
BEGINNERS WELCOME
The Possum stopped walking immediately.
Now.
To be fair.
That absolutely sounded like:
- a support group
- a nervous breakdown recovery circle
- or some kind of emotionally exhausted introvert gathering
Which the Possum deeply needed after:
- one overstimulating grocery store incident
- two emotionally difficult emails
- and accidentally making eye contact with too many strangers that week
So naturally…
the Possum entered the building carrying:
- iced coffee
- emotional baggage
- and absolutely no understanding of yoga whatsoever
Inside, soft music played quietly beneath warm lighting.
There were:
- candles
- blankets
- floor pillows
- and approximately fourteen suspiciously calm women wearing matching leggings
The Possum immediately thought:
“Oh no. These people own essential oils.”
Terrifying honestly.
Still…
everyone seemed peaceful.
One woman smiled gently.
“First class?”
The Possum nodded cautiously.
“I’m mostly here for emotional support.”
The woman laughed.
“You’re going to love yoga then.”
Incorrect.
At the time, the Possum interpreted this as:
“this group discusses feelings.”
Not:
“prepare to discover muscles you’ve been ignoring since 2007.”
The instructor entered exactly on time carrying:
- herbal tea
- terrifying serenity
- and the posture of someone whose spine had achieved enlightenment
Her name was Celeste.
Which felt emotionally threatening immediately.
“Welcome everyone,” Celeste said softly.
“Tonight we’ll focus on releasing stored tension.”
The Possum nearly burst into tears instantly.
Finally.
A safe place to discuss emotional exhaustion.
Then everyone started stretching.
The Possum blinked slowly.
“…oh no.”
Nearby, the Emotional Support Cherries were already seated on yoga mats looking weirdly prepared.
“You KNEW this was yoga?” the Possum whispered aggressively.
One Cherry shrugged.
“We thought you knew.”
Betrayal honestly.
By the time the Possum considered leaving, the lights had dimmed and everyone was already:
- cross-legged
- peaceful
- and somehow spiritually moisturized
Escaping now would have required:
- social interaction
- public movement
- and possibly explanation
Impossible.
So the Possum stayed.
Huge mistake initially.
“Let’s begin in child’s pose,” Celeste said gently.
The Possum immediately thought:
“This feels emotionally infantilizing.”
Three minutes later:
“Okay wait this one actually slaps.”
Things escalated quickly after that.
At one point Celeste calmly instructed:
“Now let’s move into downward dog.”
The Possum looked around in visible panic.
“Are we qualified for that?”
The Burnt-Out Frog, who had apparently been dragged there unwillingly by the Cherries, muttered from the back:
“I’m calling OSHA.”
Reasonable response honestly.
The first half of class mostly consisted of the Possum:
- wobbling
- overthinking breathing
- and whispering things like:
“I don’t trust this pose spiritually.”
Meanwhile, everyone else floated gracefully around the room like:
- emotionally regulated forest witches
- or women who definitely owned expensive water bottles
The Possum hated them immediately.
Then came:
The Stretch
A terrifying moment during which the Possum accidentally released approximately four years of stress from one shoulder.
The Possum froze completely.
“…what was THAT.”
Celeste smiled knowingly.
“Tension.”
The Possum looked horrified.
“I thought that was part of my personality.”
Honestly?
Understandable confusion.
As class continued, the Possum slowly became aware of several deeply upsetting truths:
- breathing slowly actually helped
- shoulders were apparently not supposed to live beside your ears
- and lying quietly on the floor in dim lighting felt medically significant
At one point, Celeste softly instructed:
“Notice where you’re holding stress in your body.”
The Possum whispered immediately:
“Everywhere.”
The Burnt-Out Frog whispered back:
“Correct.”
Halfway through class, disaster struck.
The instructor said:
“Now we’ll release emotional energy from the hips.”
The Possum sat upright instantly.
“EXCUSE ME?”
The room remained calm.
Which felt suspicious.
Then somehow—
through stretching,
breathing,
witchcraft probably—
the Possum suddenly became overwhelmed with:
- stress
- exhaustion
- and memories of every emotionally difficult customer service interaction since 2014
Tears appeared immediately.
“Oh my god,” the Possum whispered.
“Yoga is interrogating me.”
The Emotional Support Cherries nodded sympathetically from nearby floor pillows.
“Yeah that happens.”
Nobody had warned the Possum that yoga contained:
- surprise emotions
- psychological jump scares
- or aggressive self-awareness
Frankly irresponsible industry.
Then came:
Final Relaxation
Which sounded fake initially.
The lights dimmed further while everyone lay beneath blankets listening to soft rain sounds.
The Possum prepared to hate this.
Instead…
for the first time in approximately six months…
the Possum’s nervous system stopped behaving like:
- a haunted smoke detector
- inside a collapsing casino
Complete silence.
No expectations.
No emails.
No fluorescent lights.
No accidental overstimulation.
Just:
- floor pillow
- weighted blanket
- breathing
- and tiny string lights glowing softly overhead
The Possum nearly ascended spiritually.
After class, everyone drank tea quietly while discussing:
- back pain
- emotional boundaries
- and magnesium supplements
The Possum sat wrapped in a blanket staring into space.
The Burnt-Out Frog approached cautiously.
“You alive?”
Long pause.
The Possum spoke softly:
“Emotionally suspicious.”
“…but?”
The Possum looked around the warm little room.
The candles.
The blankets.
The peaceful women.
The complete absence of loud noises.
Then sighed deeply.
“…surprisingly stretchy.”
Honestly?
Highest possible praise.
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