New Hobby

I was literally sweating like hell to be more precise, pearls of sweat were rolling down my forehead and on some other parts of my body that I do not dare to mention. I found myself in a very uncomfortable situation, one that I could not easily walk away from. From where I was in this expensive room, I could see the exit, but escaping without drawing attention would have been impossible.

Half a meter in front of me stood an elderly woman, her presence both commanding and serene. Her silver hair elegantly pulled back into a loose bun, framed a face etched with the stories of a lifetime. Deep set wrinkles adorned her cheeks, each line a testament to the laughter, sorrow and wisdom she had gathered over the years. Her eyes, a striking shade of blue sparkled with a youthful curiosity that belied her age. Dressed in a simple yet graceful outfit, she exuded a quiet strength that drew me in the kind that makes you want to sit straighter and breathe slower.

She was in charge, giving us instructions on what we had to do. I quickly scanned the room again and concluded that the other women were more concentrated on themselves than on my person. We were all trying to bend like pretzels in a very graceful manner.

I was giving my all to execute the task, but my body was not bending as I wished, which frustrated me a little. On my right side sat a 25 year old woman whose presence was both vibrant and captivating. Despite her fuller figure, she possessed an extraordinary flexibility that defied expectations. Her movements were fluid and graceful, showcasing a remarkable strength and agility that left me in awe. With a warm smile and an infectious energy, she radiated confidence and self-acceptance, embodying the idea that beauty comes in many forms.

As she effortlessly transitioned from one pose to another, it became clear that her body was a testament to her dedication and passion for movement. Somewhere between trying not to fall over and pretending to stay focused, I felt something shift: a tiny moment of surrender.

The music flowed gently through the air, its soothing melodies creating a serene atmosphere that enveloped me. Yet, amidst this tranquility, the voices in my head erupted into a lively political debate. They questioned the origins of my audacious idea to challenge the limits of the human body forcing it to behave like a contortionist.

Was it sheer ambition, a thirst for self discovery or perhaps a rebellious spirit that had sparked this notion? As the melodies intertwined with my thoughts, I found myself grappling with the complexities of ambition and self-expression. Just wondering whether this challenge was an act of courage or simply a beautifully foolish rebellion against comfort.

I glanced once more at the door, my heart racing with anticipation and made the resolute decision that I would see this through to the end. Half an hour later, which felt like an eternity, my first yoga class finally came to a close. A wave of pride washed over me and I felt as though I had emerged victorious, like a champion. The experience had been transformative: I was genuinely grateful for the opportunity to explore something new. My perspective on yoga had shifted entirely, revealing it not just as a physical practice but as a journey of self-discovery.

P.S. I’m still sore in places I didn’t even know existed! Seriously, who knew my hamstrings could stage a protest like this? It feels like I’ve been wrestling with a particularly feisty octopus! Yet, despite the delightful agony that has settled into my muscles, I find myself strangely excited for the next class. Maybe this is what growth feels like: a delightful cocktail of pain, laughter and curiosity.

I mean, who would have thought that contorting my body into pretzel-like shapes could lead to such a bizarre mix of exhilaration and discomfort? I can already imagine the next session, where I’ll be the one attempting to balance on one leg while trying not to topple over like a tipsy flamingo. And let’s not forget the inevitable giggles that will erupt when I realize I’m the only one who can’t touch my toes without sounding like a creaky old door!

So here’s to embracing the soreness, the awkward moments and the unexpected joy of trying something new. Bring on the next class - I’m ready to channel my inner yogi, one laugh and stretch at a time!

- Her-Via

If you’ve ever wondered what silence feels like after all the noise in your head. I wrote about it here. It pairs beautifully with what yoga taught me: that peace isn’t always quiet but it’s always waiting when you pause long enough to listen.