DOWNWARD NOSE

Why Face Yoga Is Better Than Legs, Arms, and Torso Yoga

I can move my face without getting off my ass

Everyone I know does yoga or says they do. In my bubble, people do yoga at health clubs, become yoga instructors, or practice yoga at home. My peers quote their yoga instructors like other people quote Marcus Aurelius.

Dry Rain told me she discovered an extra bone in my body no one else has.

Ivy Dewdrop said I am an incarnation of an extraterrestrial.

Ashanti Peacepuddle said to me, ‘wait and the world will envelop you in good fortune.’

A cookie told me that once. It didn't pan out. I don’t do yoga. I’ve got a therapist and she’s cliché free. I’ve done yoga. I was pretty good, but I knew I’d never be able to do the one-armed plank, toes-point-at-ceiling.

I quit when I realized how far I was from actually accomplishing that. I have an entire inspirational book series based on quitting yoga if you’re interested. It’s called, Yoga — Quit if you don’t get ahead or you can’t stand on your head. It’s transformed lives.

Whenever I look at those people who can simultaneously get into a lotus and float two inches above the mat, I dial 911. I also run to my recliner and pretend to be asleep. I’m terrified they’ll try to indoctrinate me into a pretzel and I’ve avoided pretzel conversion this long, why join now?

I know what you’re thinking. Amy, yoga is not supposed to be competitive. It’s about your practice and you must do it every day. I hear you, but if yoga is mandatory, I’m picking face yoga.

Have you heard of it? You don’t have to get out of your chair. You can do it lying down. You can do it in the bathtub, while you’re cooking, and even during uneventful sex or while walking Fido.

I didn’t always know about face yoga. My mom didn’t teach me. I didn’t date a patchouli-scented dude in college who insisted face yoga would bond us. None of my drunk friends have ever blurted out, “the meaning of life is face yoga, man,” when they had one too many. The internet told me about it.

I don’t know how the face yoga algorithm found me, but I suspect it was my How to get rid of my jowls search. My friends have told me they can’t see my jowls, but I can feel them coming in.

Jowls are like pimples. You gotta deal with them before they take over. Also, friends lie because it’s hard to make new friends after college. But I can tell ya, as soon as your face starts falling off, your friends will start telling you how well-preserved you are. Be warned but feel loved.

On a recent visit to my BFF in Texas, we discussed plastic surgery. One of us said, “I’m finally at the age that I understand why people go under the knife.” We compared what we would change about our faces. She said she’d get rid of her forehead wrinkles.

What wrinkles? I asked. She pointed at her forehead.

I don’t see’m, I said.

I told her I’d have my jowls fixed.

What jowls? She asked. I pointed to my jowls.

I don’t see anything, she said.

We’re not looking to make new friends. Also, when you’ve known someone since college, they look like when you met them. No wrinkles. No jowls. A little hungover. Weird taste in men.

After searching How to get rid of my jowls on the internet, a man knocked on my door and offered me a 20% off coupon for the plastic surgeon down the street. I told him I was waiting for a better offer. I don’t know how he found me so fast.

After I slammed the door on his 20% off coupon and returned to my computer, I noticed all these pop-up ads for a jaw exerciser flooding my screen.

Have you seen those jaw exercisers? They’re terrifying. They’re like a thigh master for your mouth. Remember thigh masters? Susan Summers from Threes Company sold them. You put the thigh master between your legs and feverishly squeeze. Open shut. Open shut. Brutal.

I’m not sure what they accomplished exactly, but you could squeeze at dinner, while doing homework, or even when out drinking margaritas with friends — very portable.

The jaw exerciser is even more portable than the thigh master because it fits in your mouth. The ads promised my jowls would disappear in no time. I did worry about my jaw getting too muscular, like when I lifted 50 lb. hand weights and I became more beefy than toned.

I also worried jaw squeezing would demand a lifetime commitment. What would happen if I quit one day? Would I have extra jaw skin? Would my jaw become saggy like a retired football player's abs?

I also had medical questions. Intense, high-pressure, repeated clenching couldn’t be all good. I googled, “Is jaw exerciser good for you?” Dental practitioners said no. It would eventually break my jaw.

That would be great if I were looking to lose weight but I was looking to have a face shaped like a doll. I also hated eating food through a straw. I use a spoon for my Diet Coke. Straws are 99% backwash.

I was feeling sad about the jaw clencher not being able to fix my jowls when the face yoga people found me on Insta and Facebook. I watched a porcelain-faced woman pucker at a 45% angle and rub her fingers all over her face.

This was the yoga for me. Would it make me calmer and more spiritual? Probably not. Would it get rid of my jowls? Who knows? So why, you ask, is face yoga for me? I don’t have to lie to my friends about doing yoga anymore. I’m doing it right now.

Thanks to Carol Lennox. And if you’d rather be laughing, follow MuddyUm and Amy Sea

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