On Yoga & Toe-Picking, or, Ode to My Yoga Toes

Oh, dear toes, why do you become so interesting during yoga class? 

Why is it that throughout the rest of the day I don't care about you at all, and then, in yoga--when I shouldn't be paying attention to you--all I want to do is pick at you? 

You become so fascinating when I practice; I notice the polish flaking off of the corner of my left big toe, the dry skin and calluses on the balls of my feet, the little piece of sock lint stuck to my right pinkie toe, and I want to touch it, pick at it, observe it, mess with it.

I know I'm not the only one who feels this sudden draw or pull towards their toes in yoga, as I observe it often in my classes.

In baddha konasana (the #1 toe-picking pose), in all forward folds, in janu sirsasana, I look around, and always, a handful of students are captivated by their respective toes. 

We try to draw our attention away from our feet, turn inward, breathe, bow our heads, but the pull back to our toes is too strong. 

If I could just tear off that one little piece of dry skin, then I could let go and breathe in this pose...

I've swept many a yoga studio floor, I've practiced on many a wooden and carpeted surfaces, and I assure you that it isn't rare to find a spare toenail, or a chunk of skin, or a piece of nail polish resting on the floor where a mat once stood. 

I've become immune to this toe-picking refuse, because although slightly off-putting, I know that this fascination with the toes is simply a part of yoga.

I got a pedicure last weekend, and dear toes, I noticed that the pull to pick at you was lessened in class last night. You looked so dressed up in your new, shiny red outfit--so proud--that I felt comfortable leaving you be, to bask in your own [relative] beauty and remain untouched.

Instead, I was able to breathe, to feel my body, to leave the toe-picking to my fellow students, whose toes may or may not have had a fresh coat of paint.

It's rare, but sometimes, in a seated forward fold or in bound angle, we can leave the toes alone and get back to the real reason that we've come to our mats...

But dear toes, don't think that this means we've forgotten you. We'll always come back to toe-picking.