xp_logs | Arthur, Sharon

Sharon encounters Arthur and poses questions on some poses.

"To what purpose do you do this?" Sharon asked the blond man from her nearby sunning spot. Her tail twitched against the grass like a purple serpent.

Arthur's eyes didn't open as he sat, meditative, in lotus position. He took a deep breath in through his nose. It was as if the sudden interruption hadn't happened at all.

Let the negative energy flow down and out. Exhale.

"I," and his eventual reply was soft and measured, "Seek to center myself."

"And the movements assist?"

"The mind, spirit, and body are all connected. The asana help center the mind and body so that we may connect with the infinite."

Inhale, exhale.

"Infinite what?"

This earned the cat the slightest crack of a smile. "That's the question, right? Some want to connect with the universe — to empty one's self for true self awareness and freedom. Others just want to feel better. Infinity is as big or small as one wants."

Sharon considered this. "So, the philosophy of yoga . . . it is 'if it fits, I sits'?"

Actual meditation was out of the window entirely, so Arthur's control and posture loosened as he opened his eyes fully. His tone was genuinely inquisitive, "Would you consider that a discipline? Postures and forms are only a tool, which is why it is called practice."

The cat regarded him from what was, on someone with her anatomy, a Sphinx Pose by default. "Would depend," she replied after a moment, "on whether one regards 'fits' as a physical reality or a state of mind."

"A true yogi might say it is the mind since physical reality is an illusion. Our senses fool us."

Sharon, downwind of the stuntman, lifted her nose to scent the air. "My senses detect you have recently consumed almond milk, oatmeal, strawberries, chia seeds, and various nuts. Is this reality, or is your breath full of lies?"

His eyes narrowed mischievously. "What is reality? What can we truly know?"

Sharon gave this due consideration.

"Whether or not I choose to sits," she concluded.

"Ah," and the upturn in his voice acting as if Sharon were agreeing with him, "Our choices do define ourselves. By turning my thoughts inward, I try to balance my own decisions and how the world moves me. Centering."

The cat considered this, too, and reached an eminently feline decision.

"A valid stance, perhaps," she agreed, "but have always thought it more interesting to move the world instead." She flexed her claws against the grass with ominous smugness. "Especially by turning my actions outward. Nonetheless . . ." Sharon got to her feet and padded up to Arthur. "An open mind is beneficial. You will show me postures?"

"Of course." The offer was open and immediate, as if Arthur had done this many times. He did pause, however, giving the cat a questioning once over. "Can you balance on two feet, or is that out? The eightfold path was admittedly made for human shapes. We'll make due."

"Balance, yes. Spread hips, no." Sharon stood on her hind legs to demonstrate, her tail winding like a counterweight. "Unless this is an illusion also," she noted.

"I suppose that depends," he mused while unraveling from a sitting position to move up to Mountain. He motioned briefly for her to follow, and opened his hips into the beginnings of a warrior stance. "Is your physical form a limitation or merely a beginning? Remember to breathe in deep."

Sharon followed suit. It was not difficult to draw her legs together and show her palms. When it came to maintaining a straight spine while bending one knee forward and allowing the other to kick back, though, certain joints protested.

"My physical form says this is the beginning of hip dislocation," she said. She wobbled perilously.

The look that passed over Arthur's face was very clearly equals parts "oh no" and "oof." He reached out to help steady her, but caught himself before touching — he had removed his gloves for practice.

Instead he steadied himself, moving back down into the table top. "Let's try something more classic."

Gratefully, Sharon dropped back to all fours. "Show me one other than Downward Dog," she said. "Such a choice would be considered a microaggression." No one could deadpan a delivery quite like a feline.

"What if I told you that pose was originally called a mere forward bend? No doggy agenda at all."

"Hm. I suppose I will trust." Sharon mirrored Arthur's position: her hind legs straight, hips in the air, while her hands stretched far in front of her. It had no noticeable opening effect for her.

"Unchallenging," Sharon remarked.

"The challenge isn't the goal," Arthur mentioned casually as he moved from downward dog has he moved forward to return to tabletop. "The sun salutation is about warming up. Pun not intended."

He continued to move, lowering himself down into chaturanga.

"Every practice has to have a beginning, and one has to start with the basics."

Sharon rocked forward on her toes. The claws impeded an easy glide forward, so instead she rotated her ankles with the same startling range of motion that allowed her to climb head-first down tree trunks. She followed Arthur's lead and finished by arching her back into something she would have declined to call Upwards Dog. She was vaguely aware this seemed to be a modified sequence, but the man seemed mindful of excluding things that would be anatomically incompatible for her.

"Is not for me, I think," Sharon concluded after a few more postures. "Slow. Prefer to stalk, and climb, and pounce."

"I'd like to imagine," Arthur offered at the end of a deep breath as he unfolded from a warrior sequence, "That cats do have their own form of practice. Yoga is more suited for the human shape. Still," and he was smiling again, "It was a pleasure to meet a conversational cat. Check that one off the list."