The yoga “scene”

I took 6 classes this weekend, but nothing will beat the first one.

It looked vanilla enough. A deep practice with singing bowls. No one would have thought this would end up with the need for aftercare.

It was a normal practice and then the teacher explains that what we were about to do could be stopped at any moment, just put your legs straight and you arms over your head. She warned of tears or hysterical laughter. It was a method used in regression therapy and also trauma treatment yoga.

Through sound and movement the entire class submitted. There were three movements, first easy enough, butterfly position and lay back, then lift your hips, I’m thinking ok, no big deal, the keep your feet on the ground and lift your knees a couple of inches and the body starts shaking, then a few more and it was like being aught in the hardest orgasm, think convolutions. The shaking was more intense than anything I’ve experienced to date. Half of the class tapped out, I stayed as long as the teacher allowed crying like a baby. After I was gone, I don’t recall the rest of the class. It’s something I want to try again but it will not become part of my practice as my body is still a little sore.

My other classes were good, but nothing can beat the first one.

Just so I can remember:

The next class was a really hard fast vinyasa, with a dj and great male teacher.

A tea meditation. The girl was soooooo pretentious I wanted to die and pee at the same time.


It was odd, we started with restorative, I wish that would have been the last class, but oh well.

After that was a class taught by a master teacher, super hard and my knee went out. That was a combo of the rain and my ego. I know in my head that hops in a practice are not a good thing and I have to do a flow to keep the patella from sliding to the left. I let my ego get in the way, plus it was cold and raining.

I recovered for the last class, a Rahda class, super playful and full of laughs, stories and love.

After that the mother and I left the mountain and drove back to reality until next year.

Silly side note- further proof crazy lady is a sadist. This past Wednesday two new woman were in the class. One casually mentions something about her not demoing, but calling the class. She hears this and I internally say “ohFUCK”. She then gives a lecture about how we do yoga for her pleasure. That teaching a yoga class is like going to the theater and we are the performers. Our movements give her such great joy that is she was doing them she would not be able to take pleasure in watching us. HA! So my practice is for her pleasure, not mine. God is she a sadist.

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