Restorative yoga is a guilty pleasure. Sure, the health and body-conscious part of me begrudgingly sends me off into a vinyasa class, knowing that I should get my sweat on. And given that I’m not really religious, maybe some semblance of spirituality on the side.

But restorative yoga….now THAT’S the stuff. It’s the best part of yoga, shavasana (or lying on the floor at the end of class), for an ENTIRE CLASS. Ok, sure — there are some “poses” like lying to the left, lying to the right, lying on your stomach. But in essence, you’re lying there.
BRILLIANT! And people pay for this. To lie in an incense-smelling, candle-lit room with other strangers, cozily wrapped in yoga blankets. The teacher’s soothing voice…New Age-ey music…occasional light massage-ey, reiki-ish touch of the teacher….theoretically this primes you for some deep muscular healing. Or for me, it puts me to sleep. Like, not light sleep. Out cold.

Sleep. Nothin’ more restorative than that. Being awake = so five minutes ago.