Wednesday, August 8, 2018

My Kind of Yoga




The Alpine goats wandered among yoga pant and skimpy top wearing Marin fit people, mostly women with a few middle aged men sprinkled in for good measure. A handful of pre-teen kids kneeled on the blue and pink and purple colored mats strewn with twigs of green alfalfa.  Then class commenced.

The animals happily nibbled away during child’s pose and downward facing goat, I mean dog, as the cheerful Yoga instructor led us through a series of basic poses. Though I am a Pilates regular, I am not a Yoga person.  I came for the goats.  And I was overjoyed to be among them.

Arms outstretched, and legs crossed, I broke my poses to gather little piles of alfalfa and then quietly summoned the Alpines. My state of mind, undistracted, and focused, was wholly absorbed by the little goats.  The Yogis call this state Nirodha, but I’m pretty sure I achieved it not through the practice, but via the goats.  I rested my foot on the backside of a gamey bigger goat, and the softness of its coat delighted me.

About midway through the session, a blond long haired goat herder, wearing  a dirty orange tee shirt, came through with a bucket of food, and about half a dozen goats hightailed it over to him in a mild stampede.  I laughed at the sound of their little hoofs pattering across the pavilion floor, but some people seemed startled out of their yoga meditation.  Mostly, the goats ambled amicably about, as observers stood outside the penned in pavilion, watching the scene with bemusement.

“They are so sweet,” I commented to the herder.  “And so well-behaved.”   He explained that they socialized the goats from birth to be out among the people, grazing on grass on hillsides, or attending these classes. 

I have to admit that I was less interested in the Yoga stretching, and more excited to interact with the goats.  I’d seen videos on Facebook of small goats climbing onto the backs of Yoga participants.  No goats climbed onto my back, but they did come close, allowing me to pet them, feed them, and whisper sweet nothings into their tiny furry horns.   

Heavenly, for me.  For the goats, pretty routine.  City Grazing, a San Francisco-based goat landscaping non-profit organization, teams up with Deborah Burkman, an experienced Bay Area yoga instructor, to offer these 30 minute sessions.  It was the first time they brought goat yoga to Marin, and of course, it immediately sold out.

A baby goat stood still next to an empty mat, as the class ended.  It didn’t move, as people collected their things and quickly left the area. I didn’t want to leave and the baby, completely relaxed, had fallen asleep on its feet!   It doesn’t get more adorable.

My love for goats, the oldest of domesticated animals, began a long time ago.  We have a large oil painting of one named Hodini, in the living room of our Dillon Beach house.  I admire their intelligence, and enjoy cheese and yoghurt made from goat’s milk.   I’ve visited with goats in West Marin, Greece, and Israel, but never for long enough.  When I tell my wife that I want a couple of goats, she rolls her eyes.  But I’m one serious Capricorn.  

In my quest to learn more about goat care and the making of goat products, I’ve contacted an animal sanctuary in Santa Rosa called Goatlandia.  Two ex-San Francisco women, who used to own a restaurant in the city, founded this farm animal rescue organization.  They take care 14 goats, 5 pigs, and 46 chickens, and also find foster placements for farm animals.

I filled out their volunteer application and was particularly struck by their question: “Why do sanctuaries rescue farm animals?”

I answered, “Unfortunately when domesticated animals can’t rely on humans for care, they have usually one option – death.  Providing a safe and healthy home to farm creatures is an important act of loving kindness in these harsh and cruel times.”

I kept my answer short, but the whole idea of sanctuaries, is particularly salient in the face of Trump era immigration policies that treat children and families inhumanely and cause irreparable damage.  Quite simply, I believe it is a worthy endeavor to provide safety to vulnerable beings, whether they have 2 legs or 3 or 4. 

I am waiting to hear if Goatlandia will let me volunteer.  In the meantime, I’m dreaming of goats.

No comments:

Post a Comment