Challenge #3 Hatha Yoga

Enjoy the text below or listen to me read the story here:

“Concentrate on your breathing,” I told myself. I could feel my stomach beginning to rumble. It was waiting for the moment when the room would fall silent to let out a mighty roar. “Please, stomach!” I entreated. “Please let me get through this class unembarrassed, then I promise I will feed you and never let you down again.” I held my breath. And there it was. My stomach interrupted the daily meditation with a fierce and indignant growl. “AUM!” I chanted loudly with the others in hopes of masking the outburst with a call to the Divine.

“Traitor!” I thought, angry at my stomach for being hungry and daring to show it.

Only just an hour before that moment, I had been sitting in my living room trying to decide whether to go the yoga class. Weeks before I had run into a former colleague who had quit her job to become a yoga teacher. I promised I would come by sometime and considering how apprehensive I had been feeling, I knew it could be a good way for me to let go of anxiety. I had never done yoga before but the hype had to be based on something. So after a long, ridiculous fight with what the German’s call my “inneren Schweinehund” (my inner “pig dog”), I finally put on my hot pants, grabbed my deliciously blue yoga mat and made my way to the studio.

I was feeling quite good in my jumpsuit. My tights even matched my shirt. I looked like I was born to do yoga. “I might even make it on time,” I thought to myself with a smile. All seemed to be working in my favor. The subway reached my stop and I jumped out. As I reached the Earth’s surface, I realized it had started to rain. Through the tiny raindrops I searched and searched for the right street but, after a few wrong turns, I managed to get on track. The innocent smile on my face began to fade as I realized the 10 minutes of buffer time I had planned in slowly began to seap away. Clueless of what awaited me and not wanting to arrive in the middle of the class greeting, I frantically searched up and down the street for the right house number. Slowly it seemed like my luck began to dwindle. Then, hidden in a small passage, I found the entrance to the class.

Breathless I entered the room, announcing my arrival with an insecure look around and an embarrassing “I-thought-I-had-left-the-house-early-enough-but-I-have-no-sense-of-orientation” smile. Quickly I said hello to my former colleague and promised to pay the fee after the class. There was a great spot next to the window still free, so I raced by and claimed it for myself. I rolled out my mat and took a seat on the floor. My phone was on silent, and I sat cross-legged, finally finding my way back to my middle.

My stomach felt a little strange as the teacher began to welcome us in Hindu (I assume). I listened to the greeting while checking on my stomach, wondering what could be the cause of the discontent. Then it hit me like a lightning bolt: I had not eaten or drank anything for hours, and I forgot to bring any snacks or water with me. The realization felt quite strange. How could I, on my quest for self-care, once again, forget to feed and water myself? It was a bad habit of mine. Some people forget their jacket or their keys when they leave the house; I always forgot to take in food and drink.

So there I was keeping my classmates from connecting to the higher self because I had failed to take care of my basic needs. “AUM!” I chanted loudly, admonishing myself for forgetting myself. It is difficult to concentrate on the Universe when the self is not taken care of. Thankfully, the meditation ended and the physical exercises began, making it easier for me to hold off the indignant growls. Right then and there, in that peaceful space, I promised never to forget myself again. Self-care begins with shelter, food, drink, punctuality and community. Yoga and the like will from now on be a way to practice gratitude for the constant fulfilling of my personal needs after I have met them. I left the class feeling relaxed and amused. Truly, yoga is a teacher, but the lesson was not the one I had expected.