My LIttle LIghts. The Pilates Gangster.

I’m hanging from the ceiling like Pink.
Or like a pink prosciutto at a charcuterie.
I’m in the Christian Grey red room.
Actually…
It’s a Pilates studio.
But there’s all sorts of straps and stuff.
I’m attempting some Cirque Du Soleil back bend
Mary says…
Don’t be a sissy bitch.
Mary can be quite contrary.
She says…
Get your shrimpy grandma legs up there.
I’m not a grandma.
And my legs aren’t all that shripmy
But this is her way of encouragining me.
Mary says…
Come on Malibu Barbie…
God wants you sexy.
Her name is Mary Ascension.
The perfect name for an Aerial Pilates teacher.
But she often calls herself the Pilates Gangster.
She’s also a Body Therapist.
And she has a theory…
That we all have a purpose.
And we won’t get to if we’re lying in our own shit.
She has many ways of getting you out of your own shit.
The first time I met Mary she covered me in mud, put me in a compression suit.
And cooked me like a frozen dinner.
I lost pounds and toxins.
Her celebrity clients call her The Fat Whisperer.
I call her the Stomach Psychic.
She can read the body like others read tarot cards.
She touched my (considerable) tummy and told me that’s where I keep my fear.
And here I thought it was all in my head.
She touched my neck and said…
Speak up…
Your words are caught in your throat.
She was right.
She uses special teas, sacred geometry, heart math, plates, psychic insight and PEMF Therapy to heal.
It’s hard to know what to call all this.
She calls it the Science of Excellence.
She uses all her gifts to get you to use your gifts
When I post a photo of me doing aerial plates..
People ask…
What the hell are you doing?
I say…
I’m getting out of my own shit.
Each time I see Mary I feel lighter and tighter.
My core is tighter.
My spirit is lighter.
She’s hilarious.
She’s profane.
She’s a trainer.
She’s a healer.
And she ain’t no sissy bitch.