Letting Go ...of my aversion to feet. Sort of. Eventually.

Tonight, the male yoga teacher stood on the back of my hands with his BARE(!!) feet.. And I didn't die.. Or throw up.. Or become infected with any of the toxins that get released from the bottom of the feet. 

Yoga is good.

Though, he is a "yogi".

I had to quickly use that insight to instantaneously talk myself out of my initial reaction, which was to flip out of downward dog, yell at him to "GTFO!" and run like a crazy-lady to wash my hands.

I used thought, reason and mindfulness to calm myself (and breathe deep breaths!) 

These are some thoughts that helped me with that:
(Note: this all happened in the matter of 8 seconds)

He probably eats completely raw, at least vegetarian, so that minimizes food toxins right off the bat. He looks and smells very clean. His feet were abnormally yet comfortingly soft and smooth (ew!) and He does yoga several times a day- detoxifying regularly. (These thoughts saved me from making a scene.) And I mindfully tried to keep my focus on my downward-dog positioning. "Heels back, long spine, navel in, hands rooted-- oh dear krishna he is on my hands !!!!!" BREAATHHEEEEEEEE! 

If it had been a regular guy, a processed food eatin-sweaty sport playin- beer drinkin fisherman with callouss , who had put his feet on my hands... Well no.. That would never happen because there'd be no way those feet would get anywhere near me. Maybe if I was laying on a beach somewhere with my eyes closed and he accidentally stepped on my hand, that might happen. However, I do have ninja-like senses for feeling something that awful approaching. I think my foot-fearing instincts would kick in and I'd roll right heck out of the way quicker than you can take a sock off. 

I think I still have a long journey ahead before "letting go" of this. Feet are one of my (many?) blockages to true liberation.
 (One that I DO NOT need help with BTW ... (If someone comes at me with feet, trying to "help", well, I may throw the first branch of the first limb of the 8 limbs of yoga right out the window and become un-zenly violent. I am not perfect.)

But thank you Yoga! For the foot of a yogi stepping on my hand, putting me out of my comfort zone, stepping me closer to letting go of my foot fears and one-step closer to liberation! 

Yeah, that sounds good. 

(Oh and no offence to any "processed food eatin-sweaty sport playin- beer drinkin fishermen"... Seriously, your feet are not the problem, my feelings towards them are. It's pure insanity on my part. Give your feet a hug! Though don't let me see that.)