But every now and then, I find my hopes dashed by those lovely free-spirited whacks that show up to class and ruin everything with their overly keen schoolboy approach (nb sexist reference intentional).

I used to find it laughable when people claimed that going to the gym was “relaxing.” I find it anything but. The only way it might be truly relaxing was if you already had a killer body and knew how to use all of the equipment, (i.e. a keeney already. One of those truly obnoxious people who know how good they are, but no idea how badly they fit in the world!).
That was when I made the decision to try yoga, where I imagined free spirited people (with a variety of bodies) would gently stretch to Yanni, if not the sound of their own breathing. Members of society who recognised synergy and empathy and all the other New Age assets that purported to make living easier.
To leave behind that weekly hour that took me two days to overcome and leave the house again. Experts say that exercise conducted while under stress is actually pointless. And potentially injurious, as you tend to ignore the body’s danger signals telling you to stop because you are too busy holding in your stomach (men) or pushing out your breasts (women) for that person who has caught your eye. Why kill myself attempting to look “in shape” on a treadmill when I could just as easy attract a partner taking it easy in a dimly lit room?
I was mistaken—a yoga studio is not a 180 turn from the gym.
Yes, people are more accepting of their abilities and no one is trying to be perfect. But human nature is ever present (and unfortunately we won’t have it any other way) and the striving to be better than the next man (sexist emphasis again intentional).
Nine times out of ten whereas the gym is a runway show of massively bulging muscles, a yoga studio can be a contest to see who can make themselves the most comfortable in your personal space.
I realize that a draw of yoga is supposed to be your connection to a larger “community,” but at the end of the day, the thin line between sharing your good energy and intentions are wiped out by some very hairy parts of the human body (both male and female). The line universally drawn for sharing too much of oneself gets crossed entirely too often.
First of all, for the amount of skin exposed and number of studios that request that you not wear shoes after entering even the lobby, the place has to be crawling with germs. Women don’t wear shoes in the bathroom, then come walking through the studio and have the nerve to step on my mat, when in about 45 minutes I’m going to be asked to put my face directly on it. Really? Like most people (myself included) we ask guests to leave their shoes at the front door so we don’t get the outside germs in our personal space. Shouldn’t the same care be taken in the case for a yoga studio?
And then there are the overly active participants in the class. 
You know them, the ones who sound like they’re having a climax when they exhale, producing a loud crescendo-style “aaaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.” I don’t mind when you’re loud when we’re chanting, because I have no clue what we’re chanting or what it even means, so please, go ahead. But when we’re all trying to relax? Is it really necessary? Last time I checked, they don’t hand out “Best Orgasm” awards at the end of the class.
Lack of clothing can also be distracting—there is nothing quite like looking up and seeing more than you bargained in front of you. I don’t think if you wear shorts that extend just two inches longer, your chi is going to be greatly affected nor will your body temperature rise dramatically and make your workout unbearable. So maybe I’m a little bit proper, but in really crowded classes I sometimes find myself in the kind of proximity that I only prefer with my husband. So often, I find some middle-aged man wearing only a skimpy pair of shorts and no t-shirt over his hairy, flabby chest. I try to embrace my inner hippie—to each their own I guess. And his appearance is deceiving, because he was one of the most experienced members of the class. I hope that’s not a bonus of yoga—physical fitness that no one else but you knows about. Literally a bummer!
At least yoga is better in that respect; once you get into the groove with it, you stop caring what other people think. Maybe that’s why no one is ashamed to be really loud, to fart, or to ignore personal space. People always talk about keyboards as a hidden repository for germs (holding more than a public toilet), but I bet a yoga studio, if tested, would be akin to a nuclear waste facility.
And as far as the whole “community” idea, just like when you’re walking on the street, you have to respect other people’s space. Yes, yoga changed your life, made you a better person, better at your job, happy all the time, etc. but really, let’s not get so carried away. Taking the same yoga class is not an invitation to spread your germs or disrupt the thoughts of others. But, even on the occasions where I get seriously annoyed at people showing off in what should be the most laid-back place on Earth, I have learned to block these things out to the point where I can enjoy myself. Maybe I don’t sound like the most “plugged-in” yogi, but trust me, I am. But if other people are able to bring their behavior and preferences into the classroom, than so should I.