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Bob’s first yoga lesson

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I mentioned to someone in downtown Westmeath that I was starting yoga classes’ the following Wednesday morning. She did her yoga in Beachburg. I said, “Why not the Westmeath Hall, it would be closer for you?” She answered with a sly smirk, “I take real yoga, called power-yoga. You will only experience the part of it that has been downgraded for the old folks.”

Now I was confused I thought yoga was all the same no matter where you went. I began to wonder if the Westmeath version would be challenging enough for me!

I started asking a few people I knew about my new venture. Some told me that many people take it way too seriously and that’s why they wouldn’t do it. “Without something entertaining to look forward too, you might as well stay at home.” They also believed that, this supposedly harmless art form sometimes puts the weight of the world on your shoulders. That burden can be amplified by the often stern and uncompromisingly somber people who practice it. What was I getting myself into? I thought I might prefer that “Laughing Yoga” program but it was only held in Renfrew, a town probably as stuffy as this yoga group.

There were a few conditions set out for me. I was to bring a yoga mat, track pants but no colour indicated, a loose shirt and a blanket whatever the heck that would be for. I even was assigned a buddy for orientation but upon learning who it was I would be surprised if he knew all that much about it.

For some, yoga is a four-letter word, only to be uttered by those stoic and fearless when performing moves like the vinyasa, bridge or a downward facing dog and swear to its merits. My guess was that kind of pressure would exhibit some humour as well as being healing and helpful, not just serial-killer serious.

Furthermore I did some reading beforehand and found that one may have to contort their body into (R-rated) positions, often cursing the instructor under their breath and wishing their life was over. Sometimes the sublime does feel sort of funny once it is mastered – I hope?

I also hope our neighbourhood doesn’t brand our yoga “Old Folks Yoga” which has a stigma attached that nobody likes to hear.

Could it mean that younger people would possibly laugh at us despite our braveness? The joke would be on them!

The night before the first lesson was virtually a sleepless one. I worried that I couldn’t stand motionless on two legs let alone one. I wondered about climbing those back stairs into the Hall and getting out of wind. Would I even have enough wind power to keep up with the class or would I have to slink out like a yoga drop-out?

I did make it there, even up the stairs. My assigned buddy laid my mat on the floor but forgot to tell me which way to face. The instructor came to me and said, “If you need a chair for any of the exercises you can use one.” I said, “I came to participate, not watch.”

During the session was was hard work, no room for laughter. Or is there? Yes, if you lighten up a bit and perhaps even slyly focus on the ridiculousness of what you’re doing and notice too, the absurdity of what everybody else is doing, then the results will be that much more beneficial. Glancing at those other physiques, an internal smile conjures up the benefits of balance; in my case both- on my feet and between my ears.

I had a few difficulties I confess. I couldn’t bend like I used to or even like the others but after all it was my first introduction to yoga. Believe it or not, I had less pain afterwards than I had before I got there or was it relief! Most importantly, I didn’t do all that bad for a newbie, enjoying nearly all the moves and looking forward to going back next week.

Life is hard, but it’s also humorous. Yoga is no exception. Why, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. So, why did I resist trying it for so many years!

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