when my flatmate invited me to attend her saturday morning yoga class with her i thought it would be a great opportunity to get back into the regular practice of yoga since my yoga/pilates teacher decided to move to some ashram in india, get some bending and stretching into my life, and improve my physical and mental health. i put on my lulu’s, grabbed my socks (apparently this class is done in stocking feet), and was searching in the depths of my closet for my yoga mat until my flatmate said i did not need it and then we were off. after the stress of fighting nairobi traffic, i was looking forward to some centering and balancing and then some strengthening poses to calm my mind.
but what i found upon my arrival was a very different kind of yoga class. one that was a mix between indian dancing and tumbling, complete with indian techno music played on repeat and a teacher who instead of speaking, would stare at you and use hand signals in attempts to communicate. where each student was singled out at one point to demonstrate the sommersault, hip wiggle, or cirque de soliel-style handstand. there are a few things that i absolutely hate, that make me break out into sweats and induce such feelings of panic, and being singled out to demonstrate something i am not comfortable doing in front of strangers is one of them. and i was not about to start flopping around on a dirty floor without a mat and without instruction to do headstands and shoulder stands, that thanks to my fantastic yoga teacher back in canada, i think should be done with guidance and care as not to hurt yourself.
to alleviate any feels of panic and duress, i quietly excused myself and i do not imagine that i will back there anytime soon. and here i was thinking a yoga class would be calming and relieve stress not induce anxiety and the desire to flee in my socks and sandals!