Archives for posts with tag: Yoga

Back in Stockholm I have an amazing yoga teacher. S is humble, teaches well and encourages us to own our practice, including doing variations or even different poses if we have the need to or for some other purpose wants to do so. This is key in his teaching and I agree with it and have incorporated that also when I am taking classes for other teachers.

Together with my friend K we decided to go to a community yoga centre in Neukölln here in Berlin. I have done yoga for a while but I still feel like a beginner, it was K:S first time. The place came highly recommended, although I saw on Facebook that someone posted that some of the teachers had a bad attitude, little did I know how right that person was.

The studio looked just what I would expect from a Berlin yoga studio, wooden floors, a fire place, white painted bricks and huge windows which let in so much spring light. It was a beginners class but I could see K and other beginners struggle since the teacher was not very precis about left and right, positioning of the feed and other key elements. I did pretty ok due to my previous experience. At the end of the class he did something unexpected; he tried to teach this class of beginners, who could not do proper ujjayi breathing, The Crow. The crow is one of those poses I cannot do. I either fall or hurt my knees so I decided to do a simple headstand instead. It looks advanced but I learned the basis of that in 10 minutes a few years back.

crow

The Crow

I went up, felt strong and concentrated and I went down to catch my breath. And on my way up for my second headstand I felt a finger poking my butt, it was the teacher. I lost my concentration and went down heavier than usually, still not falling, please note.

The teacher in a harsh voice: That is inappropriate. If you don’t wanna do a position, do child’s pose.

And then he went back to the front of the class and continued in his normal soft voice. Needless to say, I was furious. First, you do not interrupt while someone is super concentrated unless you pose a danger to yourself or others. Second, you do not call anyone’s practice “inappropriate”. What does that even mean? I was not naked, I did not have a boner, I did not drool over the hot guy in front of me (only inside my head). Third, if you feel like correcting someone for breaking some community rule not being communicated anywhere, do it after class in private.

I left the yoga centre in anger, and decided to find another centre. Which I did, a centre with only gay men. To be continued…

I do not have issues with nudity, I am fairly ok with being naked among friends or among strangers at the gym. Working out naked is a different matter. I was recently asked to attend a naked gay yoga course this summer, which I turned down. Not having problems with being naked is something different than doing dogs, cats, cows and ploguhs naked. Few people look hot upside down. I certainly do not.

For a while I thought that Copenhagen was the destination for all of you who always dreamt about doing cross fit naked but it turned out to be fake. This was a promo pic for it from Spartan Mentality in Denmark. Enjoy.

UPDATE! Naturally, the Dutch tried it. Read about it here. If you are into nude yoga and lives in London, here is a link.

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Many years ago I tried ashtanga yoga but my very gay wrists could not handle it. Whenever I did the downward facing dog, it hurt big time. I later had surgery for the problem but I did not return to my practice. Until this spring. I soon realized two things: First, that I actually liked it. Second, that the matts you borrowed were disgusting and unhygienic. So I got myself a matt of my own, a black organic matt with almost magical features, it releases negative ions when being used. And that is good for you. Apparently. What it also does is giving me is tiny flesh wounds under my big toe when I jump to plank, so now I have to tape my toe. And it is from an organic yoga matt.

The question is, am I the Princess in The Princess And The Pea? Apparently.

I have always taken pride in looking like a skank at the gym rather than a jock. Skankyness is subversive and connects me to the lovely queens, queers and whores of the world. I ask myself, what would Jean Genet had worn? The shorter shorts the better it is. Showing off nipples as a result of a deep cut tank? Why not, if it suits you. So far so good. Then I found yoga.

Picture it, me in tiny sophisticated white Adidas tennis shorts riding the escalators in Thailand.  An equally tiny, local woman behind me, below me. Her face when she sees my ass area.  Another picture, me in tiny black adidas shorts while doing the downward dog position in yoga. If it is a pretty sight? Ask the person behind me. To be frank, it was a mistake. My shorts I usually wear at yoga were wet which gave me no alternative but to to use my short short shorts I usually wear when I do free weights. I felt naked, and for the first time, not in a good way. Downward dog position. Cobra. Tree on my tippy toes. Waiting for the teacher to introduce skank position, with me as the main inspiration

Yes, I will become quite a contortionist. For oh, so many reasons. That is why I added yoga to my gym rutine. But I do have problems with finding the peace if I do yoga straight after work for instance. And people misbehaving usually do not help.

The class was full but I managed to I placed my yoga mat in the corner, which I prefere. All the regulars place their in a simple pattern so everyone get the space they need but still manage to get everyone in. Then She came in. Placing her mat 15 cm in front of mine. I looked back, there was the wall. I looked to my left and realized that I couldn’t move any closer. I said to my self “Well, well…”. Serenity now.

Then: During the first Downward-facing Dog I saw it. She was wearing the two small keys to her locker attached to a rubberband round her ancle. Everytime she moved, it rang like from a small bell. It was centimeters from my face. It was driving me mad. After two sun salutations I couldn’t stand it anymore so I whispered:

Me: Sorry to bother you, but can you remove the keys from your ankle? 
She: Ehhh, why? 

Did she question me? Yes she did.

Me: Because it makes noices?

She took off the keys and placed them next to her mat, giving me the evil eyes. Like I was the one misbehaving!