Misadventures of a Garden State Yogi. Brian Leaf

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Misadventures of a Garden State Yogi - Brian  Leaf

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The Rolling Incident

       Chapter 8. Fearless, Honest, Relaxed

       Chapter 9. Ruby’s

       Chapter 10. Jerry Garcia

       Chapter 11. Flatulence

       Chapter 12. The Yamas and Niyamas

       Chapter 13. Jemez

       Chapter 14. White Sands

       Chapter 15. Sedona, Arizona

       Chapter 16. Belting Out the Bhagavad Gita

       Chapter 17. San Francisco

       Chapter 18. Ayurveda Revisited

       BOOK THREE: TRAINING

       Chapter 19. Cotton Swabs

       Chapter 20. 5:25 AM

       Chapter 21. Catharsis

       Chapter 22. Mom and Dad’s

       Chapter 23. What Would Joshua Do?

       Chapter 24. ADD

       Chapter 25. Shaktipat

       Chapter 26. Urine Therapy Virgin

       Chapter 27. Silence

       Chapter 28. My Anger Mattress

       Chapter 29. SLP

       Chapter 30. Becoming Most Real

       Chapter 31. What Now?

       Epilogue: Most Real

       Author’s Note

       Acknowledgments

       Appendix 1. Sample Yoga Practice

       Appendix 2. Sun Salutation

       Appendix 3. Meditation

       Appendix 4. Colistening

       Appendix 5. Guided Relaxation

       Appendix 6. Ayurvedic Constitutional Survey

       Appendix 7. Ayurvedic Recommendations

       About the Author

       The Rolling Incident

      There’s surely an uneven power dynamic between one person sitting naked on the toilet and the other hovering above in a dark suit. This is especially and egregiously true if the person sitting is pushing to no avail.

      Such was the case as I sat naked in Dr. Brenner’s special post-colonoscopy bathroom. He wanted to speak with me about the results and was already late for his next appointment, so he walked on in and started to chat while I was on the potty. At the end of our talk, he offhandedly said, “If you’re having trouble relieving the gas, we can roll you.”

      I was game for anything.

      So two nurses laid me out on the crinkly paper of an examining table and rolled me back and forth. Their goal was to move things around and let the gas out.

      This worked marvelously, and I was both enormously relieved and atrociously humiliated — until I recognized one of the nurses as the mother of a girl I had a huge crush on in school, and then I was only atrociously humiliated.

      Thankfully, though, a dedicated yoga practice, which has included wearing winter gloves and punching a mattress as I shout Sanskrit chants, has cured me of colitis and spared me

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