Yoga at Dawn

It didn't look this good.  For one it was in my yard not an open expanse so, although I assume it was somewhere near dawn, I couldn't actually see any sun peeping over the horizon.  Just inky black sky, white fluorescent light and the odd motorbike taxi hurtling down my Soi.  Also it wasn't some svelte yogini on the mat, it was me in crumpled fisherman's pants and yesterday's shirt.

Dom is now doing his advanced practitioner course and as daily homework he has to do five rounds of sun salutation A, some pranayama, and meditate for a bit.  I offered to join him so at 5.30 I dragged my mat into the yard and cranked out some gladness. Man, my salutations are rusty.  I have mainly being doing yin yoga which is more stillness than movement for some reason sun salutations have become an endangered species in my regular class.  It was good to do them though, just five had me sweaty.

I skipped the pranayama (as vipassana includes breathing I didn't see the need to separate it from the meditation stage - and after all I am just hanging out, free as a bird to unfollow instructions) and sat in hero pose to meditate.  My landlady was clattering around next door and taxis were zipping by so I didn't try too hard.  I just sat and let calm wash over me, trying to empty my mind only to watch it being drawn back to the waking day.

Then, still slightly sweaty and with dusty feet, I curled back into bed while Dom showered and got ready for work. I closed my eyes and felt myself hum with a pleasant vibration.  I felt more connected and my usual panicky sense of being adrift was gone.  I felt simple, centered and happy.  I felt like I might do it again tomorrow.

back on the mat

I must have started doing yoga at the end of 2006. Oddly enough I don't remember how or why I started or why, out of all the yoga studios in Bangkok, I chose Yoga Elements. I remember my first class though, it was with a young western guy whose name is lost in time (it wasn't Adrian, I didn't get to study with him until my yogic renaissance). All I remember of that first class was he asked how the breathing technique he had just taught us (which I now know is kapalabhati pranayama) made us feel. I shyly raised my hand and said it made me feel sparkly up my spine. He beamed at me as if I had said something wonderful and told us that this technique was in fact also known as 'shining breath' and thus began my suspicion that I am fact a reincarnated yoginni genius trapped in the body of a thirty-something overweight English woman.

I attended several classes and after a week or two persuaded Dom to join. This is officially where my yoga journey started because Dom is the teller of beginnings and thus the creator of them. Now I know enough about yoga and and about myself to know that is okay, but back in 2006 when Dom joined and fell in love his story dominated our practice for the first half of 2007 and it was also the tendency for his passions to somehow eclipse mine that caused the false end of our yoga practice in July that year.

But now, four years older, over 20lbs heavier, considerably stiffer and thankfully much wiser I am back on the mat. Luckily yoga is both a loving and forgiving mistress and she welcomed me with an open heart.