Kristian Vedel birdie has joined the countdown. 5 more days to go!
Everyone around here knows that its Christmas when we bring out our two old friends from Copenhagen: The Maileg pixies
Top cute and quirky, don’t you agree?
GETTING TO KNOW MY FELLOW YOGA FRIENDS?
“Now everyone, find a partner”.
It was all going swimmingly. A week into my yoga course, and I was starting to recognise a few familiar faces, starting to find my inner rhythm (the bouncing, remember?), and even received praise for my deep lower abdominal breathing ability.
Smiling at my fellow yoga students, I pretty much skipped through the doors, heading straight into the open arms of our yoga instructor. I know the routine now. She insists on giving out free hugs at any opportunity, and I just go along with it. The bowing towards the picture on the wall? Not so much my thing. Hugs? I’m ok with that.
After the usual warm up of tapping our chest, and stomach, sweeping our kidneys, and stretching our legs out, I energetically moved towards my usual spot in the room, ready for another exciting class ahead, when she announced that we were all to partner up.
I caught the eyes of a larger, sixty year old lady, whose purple cardigan I’d complimented before the class, and we stepped toward each other.
This is where I get confused. We positioned ourselves, as instructed, one in front of the other. “Now, tap your partners between their shoulder blades, and let’s count!”
Purple cardigan lady went for it. There was no hesitating, no two ways about it. She knew the drill, had obviously been coming for years, and was not about to give me, the young beginner, a gentle tap, tap on the back. She full on whacked me. Full force. I kid you not, I lost my breath. Whack, whack, whack.
Then came the fists. Punch, punch, punch. With all her almighty, experienced yoga tapping, force. I had sudden flashbacks to a massage I once had in Bangkok, where a little old lady ran up and down my back, bending my body into positions it never even knew existed. I tried my best to stand firm, and take the pain. Just breathe your way through it, Camilla. Breathe.
I tried to look around the room, to check for some reaction. Ehm, guys? I don’t know if you are aware, or can tell by the loud slapping sounds, but I’m being beaten up over here. Guys? Hello?? But no one ran to my rescue, in fact they were all totally engrossed in their own tapping/slapping/punching duo.
“And now rub. Sweep your partners back. It feels good, right?” Thank the Lord, it’s over.
I knew there was a reason I always used to hate it at school when teachers told us to partner up. No good can ever come of it. Someone (me) always ends up embarrassed. I couldn’t wait to get home, and inspect my sore back in the mirror, feeling certain it would have bruised, making a mental note of never to wear a vest top for yoga class again.
“Now give your partner a hug!” Say what???
Brutal, purple cardigan lady smiles at me sweetly and wraps her arms around me. Laughs, and then repeats after the instructor “I loooove you, my friend!” Confused. Very.
I managed a nervous, tiny little, what-just-happened-laugh back at her. “Now switch around” called the instructor. Hah.