Our teacher was a lady with a body that speaks of perfection - belly-less, biceps and triceps toned in a feminine way and an unbelievable suppleness. The room smelt of a spa - the one that lulls you into nothingness and then lets you dream of cascading waterfalls.
Yoga is serious stuff. I promised not to laugh.
The beginning poses were quite comfortable and soothed my aching body which was for a long time cheesecake-fed.
And then came the moment when I had to stand on one foot. I heard a grunt followed by a "snapping off from the socket" sound. Was I disconnecting some tissues in my body? Then, I performed several ballerina lunges and plunges involving thighs, legs, pointed feet and raised arms. Twenty minutes on and the body was yearning to quit but the mind persisted on. I could not leave, It was too embarrassing - there were a lot of bodies more aged than mine. They were balancing themselves beautifully.
Another ten minutes and I lost myself to yoga and contemplated to say my ommms (though everyone else was quiet and butterfly-like). I had a sense of accomplishment. I felt heady and healthy and wise. At home, still wearing my euphoria, I played "Wind Beneath My Wings" on the piano perfectly.
What a day!
