Many years ago I was at a time in my life when I needed something new, something fresh, something that would help me see things a little more clearly. Yoga was fairly new to a lot of people that I knew so I thought I would check it out and see what it was all about.
I came across a Bikram Yoga studio in Mira Mesa. Cost: $10 for a week, so I thought "hey what do I have to loose". I signed up walked into the heated room after reading a long list of rules. I wanted to walk out immediately. It was like an oven in there and it didn't help that it was the middle of summer, I was wearing 3 layers of tops and long thick work out pants. I lost 2 layers of tops sat down and tried to focus on my breath. I was used to this since I used to panic a little in stuffy places, crowded places... what do you call it? Claustrophobia.
The instructor walked in a couple minutes later in ity bity shorts and I thought what the heck did I just get myself into. Sure thing, about 5 minutes in all I could think about was walking out of the class and why the hell anyone would pay money to be in a horrible, horrible situation like this where you are stretching in ways you have never stretched before, the person beside you is flicking their sweat on you, the class reeks of old sweat, the teacher is yelling to push harder and hold a posture for an extensive period of time, and you think there is no way in hell I can go any further leave me alone you F_ _ _ing B_ _ _ _!! All I was trying to do was survive the next 45min or so.
Then the end came. Sweet, sweet SAVASANA. This is why people pay money for Yoga. A sneak peek of all the wonderful things you have inside, a peek of the real you, PEACE, BLISS.
I fell in love with that un-explainable feeling.