Jocks in Yogaland

Today the jocks invaded Yogaland. A group of men from a local (I'm assuming) private school were left in Ecstatic Yoga Dance. A lot can be said on this particular subject. I remember being 16 or 17, knowing everything I needed to know. I knew what classes had value and which were worth laughing at. At the very least, I knew that the approval of my peers was far more important than the approval of teachers, instructors or assorted strangers.
I think the general attitude, and I'm sure mine, was conscious ignorance of the 10 boys in the room dead set on not participating. Lots of old things came up. 15 minutes of shaking and 10 minutes of Shiva dancing certainly didn't hurt, but I was in high school again, maybe even middle school. I'm feeling superior, intellectually, spiritually, humanely. Being a fat kid in high school, thank goodness for band which gave at least the surface level appearance of being involved. "You may be dating a hot girl, but what was your SAT score?"
"Popular? So what, at least I'll get a good job when I graduate."
Go figure it's 6 years later, my position in the community isn't threatened, but my mind starts going down those same paths. Amazing how quickly old instincts can kick in. But this is Yogaland, where self-inquiry is held at a premium. So watch, witness. What is being threatened? What am I feeling that makes me start internal conflict with the random, nameless high school boys who dematerialize once they are out of my universe? There is a voice in my head that is telling me "it's because they're obnoxious and people still like them." Maybe that's true. Certainly it seems like athletes get away with a lot more than other obnoxious people. Why does that rub me the wrong way? Probably because I was never a jock.
But what in this life haven't I gotten away with? How many times have I been the obnoxious, cocky, smug kid in a class just to get laughs? And it worked, didn't it?

And yet there is a feeling of injustice that little emperor myles has to fix. If I couldn't do it for my generation, damn it I should be able to scold the newer wave of young and uninterested.

You're a perfect person, Myles. That isn't to say you don't have faults, everyone does. That isn't to say you'll always make the best or right decision, no one does. But when it comes to being you, a manifestation of the source in this body, with this name, at this place and time, you're aces. I love you.