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Adventures in Writing, Reading & Book Culture

Yoga Sunday

Going to a yoga class WITH someone is more fun than flying solo, I think. This is one reason why I haven’t practiced yoga in a class-like environment. But Asia has been a yogi for some years now, and has a yoga instructor’s certificate. We decided to start going together, when possible. Sundays seem the best day for this.

Asia has gone to classes conducted by each of the three instructors (I’d like to start calling them “conductors” because while also instructing participants through the poses, moves, positions, they are also presenting a whole yogic experience, using a calm voice that soothes your thoughts, taking you through a whole “story” of the class experience. Very CHILL) at this dojo (correct term? perhaps not). Tonight’s conductor was Jana, a young Slovak woman of perhaps 25. She’s been on yoga retreats to India, having spent time in an ashram. Very ’60s, hey dude?

I was warned that Jana likes to flirt, a bit. And that she only makes eye contact with the men in the class. I can tell you now that this is true! Case in point: when Asia stepped into the changing room, I was left alone with another class participant and… Jana. In about ten seconds, Jana came up to me, introduced herself, and began chatting about the class. Then Asia came out of the room and what does she see? Exactly what she had predicted (or thought about, or imagined … or … or … whatnot. ;-))

But … Jana flirts only up to a point, of course. She is a pretty woman who, I can only imagine, gets hit on by men in her classes WITHOUT her needing to flirt or “make eye contact” with “just the men”. Anyway, I’m taken, thanks to Asia’s charms, smarts, beauty, and whatnot.

So then … ahem … on to the class.

Breathing exercises, with a communal Ommm! that sounded like the MGM lion.

Our conductrix proceded with a calming soothing talk about the fact that tonight fell on a full moon, and since we lowly humans are made of 70% water, we’re suseptible to the moon’s gravitational pull. As evidence, she pulled out one glaring statistic: extra guards are posted at mental institutions on a full-moon night. Bonus!

The conductrix also mentioned her fasting ritual on full-moon nights. She suggested that this is her way of keeping clean … or something like that. She suggested that we all might like to try it sometime. Of course, my idea of fasting is planning the evening meal as I’m eating breakfast. Besides which, after this class Asia and I were expected over at Ahmed & Parisa’s for a late meal of meaty Persian delights.

Then we particapants were taken through the various yoga postures for the night’s lesson: the sphinx, downward-facing dog, upward-facing dog, child’s pose, cobra, bow, tree, and locust, to name but a few that I recall. Just getting into and moving through some of these positions works your body (the point, I’m sure), but then you need to hold the pose for a few seconds. I heard a bit of grunting and groaning around me. Later, I was really hoping for “the corpse pose” that Asia had talked about days before. It’s supposed to be difficult, sort of the antithesis of dying. This didn’t happen, though, but there is the future.

The class lasted an hour and a half. About a dozen people showed up. Mats and butt-cushions and blankets and straps (don’t ask) are provided. I’m in pretty good shape, both work-out wise and flexibility, so I was able to do all the positions with little trouble. Today I definitely feel a bit of “shaping” in my shoulders, lumbar muskulls, and glutamus maximus (ass muscles).

I left feeling a spring in my step and with a mood-enhancing idea of … life? Sure. I’m down with that.

Photos of the week:

Asia on the street Asia on the street



Mark eating pomelo

Mark eating his first pomelo





And of course, my girl … Asia with flower




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