The woman beside me was snoring, all the blood in my skull had pooled to the back of my head, my lumbar region hurt, I was sweating profusely lying on a mat someone else had sweat on profusely, and I was listening to the indisputably worst music I have ever heard. I was not, by any stretch of the imagination, relaxed.
I was at my first Yoga class. It was a birthday present of fourteen classes from Ayla. (The pay-off is that she plays squash with me once a week. Let's see how she likes them apples.) Considering my woeful posture it's a very thoughtful gift, but considering my immense snobbery it's on thin ice.
It wasn't that it was intrinsically humiliating (the clothes, the sweating etc), it was the music and the Tantric bowl ringing, or clonking, that rankled the most. Actually, it was the music. We were just about spared whale and dolphin noises but not the positive affirmations of peace and relaxation. And a cavalcade of all the world's most aggravating ethnic instruments playing tourist melodies all synchronised to the movements I couldn't perform. If it had featured steel drums and roto-toms I would have done some damage.
It's not easy to perform dog-with-down-turned-head position and cover your ears at the same time.
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2 comments:
it was you snoring, i know it was.
Another horrid yoga sound is the Loose Guff or Horse Fart. I've never tried yoga (you may be surprised to hear), having been put off by my late mother's experience in around 1979. In a provincial comprehensive school drama studio, heralded by a scatter of sounds like cane toads burping, or tearing leather, opened a vent of hell. Sweet corruption, dead wind of the corpse lily, as if Satan had left off genocide and concentrated his power on making a bad sprout-like smell come out of the offered-up arse of the woman mere inches from my mother's nose.
Not for me, although Simon Lewis's taciturn Uncle Vince apparently practises an arcane form of yoga which allows you to wipe yourself clean from the inside, lungs, bowels and all.
So, y'know, pro's and cons.
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