The Return of the Yogi - Or, Self-congrats on my second headstand

The first time I started yoga was in the spring of 2001, my second time in Hong Kong. My friend N. is a very keen exercise bunny and she suggested we try this 'power' yoga class. I was going through a sadistic stage in my life (two breakups in a row, boozing every night, you name it) so I attended the Saturday morning class every weekend, regardless of what condition I was in, for fear of losing my grip on reality if I didn't have at least one regular activity in my life. Attending these classes was no mean feat, I tell you. For one thing it involved getting up at 7 am after a night of partying until 3 or sometimes 4. It also meant I was doing all the asanas while suffering from mammoth hangovers. You try balancing while your head is swimming. Or bending forward when you think you might be sick.

Yoga is an inherently individual exercise. It is all about what your body is doing or is capable of doing better. I like it because it is a great mix of stillness and movement. I try to avoid yoga studios here that play New Age music, or have so many students in the studio that when you are doing poses you find your nose stuck on someone else's butt, or have instructors who don't correct your poses. Instead, I go to a couple of small studios that have teachers who radiate an aura of strength and calm, and who teach only a handful of students who know how to handle their bodies' limits. It also helps that the studios are light and airy, with a smell of incense in the air. It's an exercise in relaxation as well as a physical workout, afterall.

And it's always fun to see how much you can do. From being someone who was so inflexible she couldn't reach her own toes without pain, I've become someone who can do headstands, albeit with a little help. Yay! Yesterday I did my second headstand. We were doing shoulderstands, and the teacher said I did them quite well.
"I can do headstands, but only if someone pushes me up," I said.
"Oh no, you're not meant to be pushed up. You can pull yourself up," the teacher said. "Come over here to the wall."
So I placed the crown of my head against the wall.
"Walk your legs towards the wall and upwards," the teacher said.
The trick really is to use your stomach muscles to lift your legs up. When I was in position, the teacher asked me to try to bring myself forward away from the wall, but after having left the support of the wall, I wobbled for only 30 seconds before I had to bring my legs down.

Oh boy, I'm going to become so yogic I'll be able to dictate letters while upside down. The Yogi Associate - that's me.