I injured my foot in a cold yoga studio. Never take a class that involves stretching in a cold room. In fact, if ever you are cold and you drop your pencil, don’t bend over and pick it up. Leave it there until spring. Maybe it wasn’t the cold, but the class that injured me: Ashtanga Yoga. That’s Sanskrit for “a thousand downward dogs until you snap”.
When I walk out of there, I don’t realize I am injured. I think the taut muscles under the ball of my foot just need to be stretched and massaged. I stretch them, while soaking in a hot bath, by forcefully bending my toes toward my ankle. This is what it feels like to pull apart thick strands of taffy.
Although it doesn’t hurt, I know this isn’t good because the next day I can’t put weight on my foot. The next two months, I walk around in a rigid boot to avoid any more taffy stretching.
I avoid walking, because the boot puts my hips out of alignment, causing a new injury above that, and a new injury above that, turning me into a lame fixer upper. The aches and pains house of blues that Jack built. To avoid further injury, I pull into a parking lot at Target or the grocery and pray for “a Jesus parking spot.”
A Jesus parking spot is a vacant spot closest to the door that isn’t marked “handicapped”. You only ask for a Jesus parking spot if you really, really, really need one. I never abuse that rule and whenever I ask for a Jesus parking spot I get one. It is amazing.
Sometimes I pull into a parking lot, and I don’t find a Jesus parking spot. I just tell myself, someone else needed it more. Thank God I’m not worse off than me.
Last Saturday was a gorgeous day. Vincent begged me to take him to the zoo. We pull into the parking lot, a sea of cars, and I say, “Wow, looks like a lot of people had the idea to come to the zoo today.”
He corrected me. “Looks like a lot of peoples’ kids had the idea to come to the zoo today. A lot of kids had a good idea.”
“Where are we going to park, a mile away??”
We meet eyes in the rearview mirror and Vincent says hesitantly, aware his suggestion is quite a long shot: “a Jesus parking spot?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”
We drive passed rows and rows of minivans, a bumper crop of minivans, to the very last row, closest to the ticket booth. All the way down the last row, on the left and right, are filled handicap parking spots. But at the end of the row, where I stop and decide if I’m going to go up and down every row or straight to the back, I see, on my immediate left, a vacancy!
“Oh my God! Vincent! A Jesus parking spot!”
I cannot believe it. I can’t contain my excuberance. I want to do a happy dance like you won’t believe. There is a family getting into the minivan directly in front of me. The husband is on the cell phone outside the van. The wife is in the passenger seat, facing me. The two boys in the back are spent.
I explain to the wife why I’m so thrilled. I know, I know. Hard to imagine. Me, just walking up to a total stranger, and striking up a conversation.
She transcends her thick accent and high-fives me. What culture barrier? She high-freakin-fives me! And says, when our hands smack together, “Praise the Lord!”
To which I shake my head and think only in the Midwest.
As her husband backs up their minivan, and her kids are whining, she yells out her window: “You are going to be really glad you have a Jesus parking spot on your way out!”
She was right.
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[...] soon as we got there it started raining so we looked for a Jesus parking spot and found one. It was more exciting the first time. Now I’ve come to expect [...]
You were so smart to wear that boot for two months. I injured my foot at the same time you did and now it’s so messed up…and the hip and the back…and off I go to probably get a toe broken to fix it and to PT for the hip and back….sigh. And that is me telling you that you got a metaphorical Jesus Parking Spot by just going to the podiatrist! Your foot now WORKS! Mine doesn’t. No JPS for me.
Loved this. I honestly had never heard anyone else mention these spots LOL. I don’t usually ask for one, but somehow am guided to a spot that I know is there for us, usually preempted with, ‘now where is our spot’ Sometimes there isn’t one, but then I tend to know that also.
Yes!!!!!!! I know!!!! There is a distinct difference in the feeling in the air when you know you just have to seek it out and when there just isn’t one. You know you’re evolving when you are in complete acceptance. Oooooooohhhhhhhhmmmmmmmm!
Haha I love it. My father has decided those parking spots are ‘Seagan Parking Spots’. (His name is Seagan by the way..)
Every single time we go somewhere he finds that exact spot. It’s like people get this tingle when he pulls in that convinces them they should get in the car and leave right at that very moment.
I’m pretty sure he has magical powers.
Great post! I really enjoyed reading it!
Here’s my yoga story: Yoga fills up at OSU just after first 20-seconds of Junior registration. It’s crazy and practically a rite of passage: In your Junior year, you HAVE to declare your major, and you’re ABLE to take yoga.
As new staff at OSU I’m able to take classes for free, but my measly STAFF registration window was well after Yoga closed. I was later admitted to a PhD program and immediately took advantage of the super-high registration status during my 1st quarter.
Turns out a bunch of my students (I was a hall director, I ran a dorm) were in the class too, including some of my troublemakers. I didn’t like the idea of the thorns-in-my-side having an upclose and personal view of my BACKSIDE on a regular basis, so I hung out near the back of the class (it’s taught in this HUUUUGE, old ballroom right off of Mirror Lake.)
My spot? I ended up surrounded by beefy guys on all sides. During small-talk before the first class I found out they were all on the football team, taking it to help flexibility, etc.. My neighbor? AJ Hawk.
Here’s what I remember most from yoga: IT STINKS – but mostly because those football guys were SO FREAKING GASSY. Additionally, IT’S LOUD – but that’s because of the excessive grunting and the snoring during savasana.
I’m going to need this parking lot one of these days.
I am running a little fever, thanks to my kids and that virus vault we call a school, and I had to, HAD TO, go out to the store last night to get milk, juice, and some other stuff in that pyramid….anyway, I felt like crap, right?
Asked for a Jesus parking spot and POOF! one appeared closest to the door and NOT a handicap spot.
It’s amazing. Or it was just timing. No one goes grocery shopping at 10:30pm.
can Jews on the West Coast use that too?
Only if you were a New York Jew to start with.
I knew you were going to ask.
I’m with Swati, too! That, “Thank God I’m not worse off than me!” is my favorite line! ROFL! I’ll admit to thanking God for that very same thing, but I don’t believe I used such humorous wording.
Glad Ami explained the Yoga/anti-christ connection, ha, ha!
I’ve recently begun yoga practice, and somehow I scuffed the skin on my big toe *sigh* My husband said to wear socks, but anyone who does yoga knows that won’t work. So, now I have a big bandaid on my toe. Sheesh.
HAHA Can’t say I’ve ever heard it called a ‘Jesus Parking Spot’ before although I can totally relate to praying for one on occasion! I’m sure I’ll remember what to call it next time I’m in need. Thanks for the great post and congrats on finding the parking spot! Following from MBC
I agree with Swati. I never called them Jesus Parking Spots — but now I know the proper terminology (smile). Thank you for the veryfun post. I look forward to reading them more frequently.
Katie
I keep trying to do yoga, but then I get a cold. Someone is trying to tell me something.
It’s life’s little miracles that make the world go ’round. My favorite miracle is when there are 11 biscuits in the can instead of 10. An extra mini pizza!!
OMG – I loved this line:
“Thank God I’m not worse off than me.”
A great story that got me laughing (unfortunately, I can relate to the yoga thing…and I will be trying the Jesus Parking Spot thing!).
- Swati
Awww, now you probably jinked me, I just started doing yoga! lol! Yay for a great parking spot, thanks for sharing the story!
I am so thankful for those small blessing — sometimes they’re the only thing I have to hold onto.
I hurt my back and neck. Wish I had a good story, but I honestly have no idea how I did it. Guess I better start praying for those Jesus spots of my own.
I’m typing one handed and too weary to explain.. and it’s just my personal belief anyway…
But diving into Yoga injured my left knee in April of this year. Had surgery in June to repair it. Then tore my rotator cuff tossing a large bag of trash st work while trying to baby my still-sore knee, just had surgery for that… I think the connection is obvious.
AAAH! Now I get why you’re calling yoga the anti christ! You’re the lame fixer upper, aches and pains house of blues that Jack built! You poor thing!! Over compensating just leads to additional injuries. We should just lay in bed and be waited on until we’re better.
Hi there.
I’m stopping by via MBC to follow you.
Have a great day!
Harriet
Really? TY
Funny that you wrote about the Jesus parking spot in the same post as Yoga… the Anti Christ.
Yoga started my whole downhill slide.
I’m still trying to apply the brakes.
I’m not sure how Yoga has anything to do with the anti-christ. That’s a knee slapper.
You know it is funny because I find that God works in my life in small ways. A great parking spot, the fact that I have a high C in my math class, an extra cookie. Things like that to make life wonderful! Glad you got your Jesus parking spot! They are great!
Exactly! This is how I am in communion with God.