farting in yoga class is always kind of on the fence between smelly and funny. Like any fart, but the stakes are a bit higher– reminders to “breathe deep” heighten either effect.
The other day I was doing yoga shirtless, and this is generally something I try to avoid– not tryna be a bear man with the shirtless workout thing goin, or even a lithe man with spider limbs entwining for each bind (this latter for lack of ability)– but of course I was also farting shirtless in yoga class, and worried about what this did to my already uncomfortably-exhibitionist workout.
I discovered a source of possible salvation when rounding my arched back while lying down. The effect was like releasing a hamburger-patty-lined plunger: A very sloppy fart sound, and I thought “If i just made this sound frequently enough, it will be rendered ludicrous, the idea that anyone would loose this many very sloppy farts during one yoga class.” Not only this– but presumably the “fart sound” would overtake the “fart” as the most plausible explanation of previous farts, and forgiveness would extend backward through my entire fart-history.
It’s hard to say, how the fart sounds were interpreted, or how farts would have been received if understood as farts. All that can be said, in retrospect, is that I’m not very good at meditating.