Yesterday-Interview Day- began in an elevated fashion. I awoke at five, caffeinated, and biked to the Ashtanga Yoga Shala. In honour of the sun who is planning to progressively disappear over the next three months, we did 108 sun salutations. I concluded the practice with some backbends, a forward bend, a shoulderstand, a headstand, and a short, tripped out savasana. Then I rushed into the shower and began my ten-minutes-to-hotness routine.
|The Outfit and the Shoes|
Yoga Pose = Chaturanga with Grimace
|Cow-Faced Legs. I always wondered what part was the cow's face.|
The blonde store manager wore a bright fushia shawl that announced the Lululemon Manifesto in bold, white handwritten letters. “Mediocre is as close to the bottom as it is to the top, and will give you a lousy life,” the Manifesto proclaimed. The blonde store manager asked me why I didn’t believe I deserved what I wanted. There was a long silence during which my usual sarcastic brilliance eluded me.
“Uh, I don’t know,” I said. I felt like something exceedingly awkward and embarrassing was about to happen.
“Maybe there was a situation from your childhood when you asked for what you wanted and didn’t get it?” No, this wasn’t true. I’ve discussed this very same matter in twelve-step meetings. My childhood was shamefully un-traumatic. The awkward and embarrassing moment was now nearly inevitable. Shifting out of cow-faced legs and into lotus, I articulately shrugged my shoulders.
“It must be really difficult for you to develop close relationships if you’re sarcastic and cold all the time,” said the blonde manager. She was right. It was intensely difficult. Nobody liked me. I was far too obnoxious to have any friends.
I looked at the blonde sales manager with desperately wide eyes. The awkward and embarrassing thing had taken place. I was crying and there was no traumatic childhood or shattered Olympic dream to justify it.
The sales manager congratulated me for finally making eye-contact after an hour and a half of standoffish one-liners. She consoled me by confessing to crying last night while watching Grey’s Anatomy. Without regaining any composure, I nodded, released my legs and sat on my knees like a normal person.
Tomorrow, I’ll receive an email stating whether or not I’ll be called into a one-on-one interview where we’ll further discuss my elevation potential. Before we left, the managers reminded us that rather than taking it as a rejection, those who fail to make the cut should view the outcome as, “not now.” We were encouraged to apply again and again, using each attempt as an opportunity to elevate ourselves further and further away from mediocrity. I’ll be sure to keep this in mind.
|From Luon to Watermelon Shirts. |
The Group Interview on Recovering Yogi
Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
I Let Go, self-help book by Erica J. Schmidt
How I will elevate Lululemon
Why I am like Jane Fonda
Be Your Own Best Friend