Bikram Yoga

Driving with an open itinerary, I decided to enjoy this Sunday outside with some plans and then none. There were the errands- the bills to pay and the haircut, which were done last week-now the waxing, facials and some office work were in the to-do list today. I needed to take on something difficult, just to take my mind off of things. I did several social interactions the past month, albeit with some difficulty. I still preferred the safety and familiarity of the company of really good friends.

With only half the day gone, and only an address in hand, I find myself driving to my favorite playground, Makati, to look for the Bikram Yoga place in Salcedo (www.bikramyogamanila.com). With a good 30 minutes ahead, I lay my mat at the farthest end of the room (beginner’s place) and wait as Hilary, our yoga teacher sits me down to give an introduction to yoga. With breathing position done, she informs me I will be in a heated room (38 to 48 degrees Celsius) and can’t take water breaks in between postures (ashtana) and I am to expect straight breathing exercises in the first 25 minutes of the program.

With this, I enter the room, composed mostly of women in their 20s, 30s and 40s, and only with 2 guys- a foreigner wearing only a swimming trunk and a man probably around my age. We were 33 attendees in all, and I am the only beginner in the class.
Within 5 minutes I am sweating like a pig. We all were. Putting my weight on my left foot, then all on my right while stretching, reaching for the ceiling, lengthening my spine, bending my back, tucking in all my ten fingers under the heel, angling my left toe to touch my right knee, twisting and pushing all the air out of my body, all I could think of was I can do this, this is hard, but I’ve never sweated this much in an hour of exercise.

Hilary was checking my position and breathing and calls out to the class how to point our toes up while immediately moving from a laying position to doing 2 sit ups. I say to myself I want to do this but an hour and a half seemed so long, and tiring. Before I knew it, Hilary tells the entire class I made it, and we are left with only the breathing exercises. The entire class claps their hand in support. What the heck, maybe I might consider the 30-day challenge if only to block out the sad, pitiful, depressing thoughts that slip in and out of my days and nights.


I can do this.
Little by little, I can let go.
Then maybe one day it will not hurt as much.
Maybe next week I will take a long drive somewhere.
Maybe one day I will not torture myself with questions.
Maybe one day when I look back those years were wonderful memories that meant something not just to me.
Maybe one day I will stop thinking.
Maybe one day I will live, and love again.