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Beginnings Pt3

Updated: Jan 13

Edward stood at the front of the room and began to list off the things that we would be doing in the practice, and none of it sounded familiar. I knew it was a list of what we were doing because he said the words “Today we’ll be doing..” Everything else after that sounded like a foreign language. Not once did I hear the words “Triangle or Tree”. The good ole’ standard yoga postures that everyone did, or so I thought. I looked around to see the others reactions and no one looked fazed. Everyone else seemed to know this language. They calmly nodded their heads and continued to limber up. This pre-yoga stretching further confused me, as I never needed to warm up to do yoga. I thought that was the point of yoga! Panic set in, as I realised that my pursuit of love had landed me in a situation where I was way out of my depth. I began to tear up as I grasped the fact that there was no escape. I was just going to have to go through it, to get out of it. Edward finished his run down of the practice agenda, after which he turned his back to the room so that we were all facing the same direction, and I heard him exhale, what I thought to be the most ridiculously loud exhale ever. I rolled my eyes. However, as if on queue, everyone else came to the top of their mats and brought their hands into pray and joined in on the exhale. “Oh this is it!” I thought. Not having an inkling of what would follow, I courageously joined in. To spare you the gory details, the practice lasted 45 minutes. I lasted 15. And for the remaining 30 minutes, I sat leaned against the radiator, for warmth and comfort and watched in utter hatred and wonderment at the most beautiful practice I had ever seen in my whole yoga life. “How long will it take me to get to the place where I use handstands as warm up?!” Was my last thought as they finished.

I left feeling angry, defeated, and humbled, but secretly impressed and somewhat motivated. I thought I had a really good yoga practice and yet it was all I could do to not cry while looking at everyone else float through the unknown sequences with such grace, strength and beauty. I managed to stay to the end and hung around so that I could walked back to the underground station with Olof. I spoke to no one and no one even attempted to speak to me. YES, there was bitchy snobbery at play, even amongst the unknown elites. By the time Olof and I were on our way back to the underground station, I knew nothing would ever happen between us. I was so distressed from the class that I didn’t even care. Totally in my feelings, I laid into him while desperately holding back tears of humiliation.

“What was that?” I exclaimed. “I can’t do that! That’s not even yoga! I’m not a dancer like you and the rest of them!”

After quietly and calmly listening to me rant, he asked me to promise him that I would go back at least 9 more times before I called it quits. His reasoning was that I needed time, and he strongly felt that this was for me. His words somehow soothed me because it made me realise that he saw something in me that I was unaware of. Which peaked my interest to know what it was he thought this practice would do for me. Feeling less foolish, I agreed to give it 9 more goes. And he was right. It didn’t even take all ten classes to get me hooked. I was fully committed by the fifth class. Within a month I had somewhat learned the sequences and was practicing them at home on the days that I couldn’t make it to The Tripsichore Headquarters.

Once again, to now look back and see the path that my life has taken due to my chasing after this one guy, I can’t help but recognise the hand of an unseen force that guides my life, using what ever means at its’ disposal, even my personal challenges and hangups to accomplish its plan. The Universe is a narcissist, who is actually on my side.

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