Yoga class: "As long as we're there by 4pm for my first yoga class, " is the non-negotiable from DG, 24 hours before lift off from Mindrolling to Rishikesh. Mmm, 25 kms, leaving 10am. Should be doable!
Arriving and checked in at the nearby guest house, I pass on Class 1 but front for the next morning class gig at 6am with the Guru, and discover how ujjayi breath really works in yoga practice. DG gets excited by my revelation and ventures into a Vinyasa Flow explanation of how continued practice will see me live to at least 100! That's promising.
Day 2. "Do you want an easy or a hard class?" is the Guru's query. Guess what?
"Okay, let's do easy humming bee yoga." This should be interesting.
Half way through, then it hits me. Here I am in the NFZ (No Fart Zone in yogic terminology) amongst about 50 aspiring yogis and yoginis, all westerners of course, dreadlocks, Lululemon tops, special stainless steel waterbottles, iPhones and harem pants, all at the ready, standing on one leg, other knee up, hands above my head, thumb and forefinger in a mudra, humming like a bee on out breath.
"Keep happy feet! Louder. Smiling honey bee. Mmmmmmmm," exhorts Guru.
Next we're on our backs. "Three long out breaths. Ahhh. Ohhh. Eeee. Then you make sound as you like," is the instruction.
Okay, let's go. Aaaargh - let it all out. Mostly gentle sweet synchronised sounds from the yogic sheeple. They're either purged of all their bad karma or are not yet ready to start.
I'm questioning whether ashram living could be an elitist, western indulgence. Or maybe it's just me. Compassion. Acceptance.
Hari om, santih, santih, santih.
It's time for breakfast!
Arriving and checked in at the nearby guest house, I pass on Class 1 but front for the next morning class gig at 6am with the Guru, and discover how ujjayi breath really works in yoga practice. DG gets excited by my revelation and ventures into a Vinyasa Flow explanation of how continued practice will see me live to at least 100! That's promising.
Day 2. "Do you want an easy or a hard class?" is the Guru's query. Guess what?
"Okay, let's do easy humming bee yoga." This should be interesting.
Half way through, then it hits me. Here I am in the NFZ (No Fart Zone in yogic terminology) amongst about 50 aspiring yogis and yoginis, all westerners of course, dreadlocks, Lululemon tops, special stainless steel waterbottles, iPhones and harem pants, all at the ready, standing on one leg, other knee up, hands above my head, thumb and forefinger in a mudra, humming like a bee on out breath.
"Keep happy feet! Louder. Smiling honey bee. Mmmmmmmm," exhorts Guru.
Next we're on our backs. "Three long out breaths. Ahhh. Ohhh. Eeee. Then you make sound as you like," is the instruction.
Okay, let's go. Aaaargh - let it all out. Mostly gentle sweet synchronised sounds from the yogic sheeple. They're either purged of all their bad karma or are not yet ready to start.
I'm questioning whether ashram living could be an elitist, western indulgence. Or maybe it's just me. Compassion. Acceptance.
Hari om, santih, santih, santih.
It's time for breakfast!
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