That Wednesday night, I almost did the unthinkable. I was about to walk out from a yoga class.
In my yoga studio, where I know all instructors. Where everyone knows me.
I hated THAT instructor. He was relatively new and that was his first class I came to. I just did not have any other options that could fit into my schedule. So, I did not like the guy. 2 minutes later, I realized that I hate the class. The schedule stated ‘Joint opener.’ Well, fine. But the whole thing turned out to be all floating tai chi influenced class, and, after a long office day, angry and pmsed, of course I could not get my body in sync.
With the instructor’s movements.
With the breath.
Taking my body weight from one foot to another? I’ve never been too coordinated, but that day it was a nightmare.
‘What is he saying? How are we supposed to move at this speed? Breathe out? I could barely breathe in in these 1.5 seconds! Does he know that he teaches a yoga class and not high impact cardio whatever thing? WHAT upward dog? I just got into the downward facing dog! This is a group class, dude! Have you ever been to a proper Vinyasa class’
Truth be told, I am usually ok modifying the classes so they suit ME, but this was driving me crazy.
‘After this, sequence, I’m walking out! Why should I care what anybody would think?’
Don’t know why, but I stayed. Just moving, just trying to breathe… watching other people move and gracefully get into the poses. After a while, what’s the point, I thought. We’re almost through. But -never again.
And then we went to the floor poses. And, surprisingly, my split (monkey pose, if you prefer) had never been so easy and deep. As the class became more static, I came to appreciate the dynamic part. I finally felt happy with myself. With the results of the previous hour, at least.
Then we had a brief chat with the instructor in the elevator. Well, he seems to be an ok guy, I thought. Or at least he should get a credit for getting me into that monkey pose.
The following Wednesday, still captured by that success, I went to the same 8pm class. Why not get though the annoying class if there’s so much benefit to it, right? I actually lifted weights, which I just hated, in order to get the result, and this is not that bad… And it was not bad at all. My breath was fine. I knew what to do. I was ok.
A month later, I love my Wednesday class. It is dynamic. It is fun. It is different from my other yoga classes. I enjoy it. The instructor is a great guy.
It does open my joints. But there’s much more that it has opened for me: whatever it looks like at first angry glance, just give it a try. Don’t rush with conclusions. Whatever conclusions you end up with later, it’s worth it. Open up and breathe. Namaste.