Days into Sober Year: 17
Sober Vibes (Scale from 1-10: 1 = shitty vibes, 10 = fucking sober unicorn): 7
Last night my friend invited me to go to Kundalini yoga with her. I had seen Kundalini mentioned on a few yoga schedules and always thought it was a very fun word to say, that’s where my understanding of Kundalini ended.
Before we went in, she grabbed my arm and whispered, “Suspend all judgement for the next 90 minutes, trust me”.
Um, yikes, suddenly I was feeling a little scared.
The room was large with soft light and pictures of a man with an epic beard everywhere. In some of the photos he looked joyful and radiant, in others he looked dangerous and menacing. I decided to take my place in front of the one that didn’t look like he wanted to kill me in my sleep.
The teacher was sitting on an elevated platform covered in (what I’m assuming to be faux) white sheepskin rugs. He was probably around my age and wearing a large white turban and white robes. A massive gong hung behind him. He tested a microphone propped in front of him with sounds like Om, na, ma.
I was immediately annoyed by the whole thing.
Suspend judgment. I did this by not outwardly rolling my eyes back into my skull.
Based on what transpired over the next 90 minutes, I have come to the conclusion that Kundalini means making an ass out of yourself in the most uncomfortable ways possible.
We paired each wildly awkward pose with and equally or even more awkward facial position. At one point we had to curl our toungue in our mouth, breathe in through it, sitting on one foot, while holding the other leg straight and hovering six inches above the ground, then breathing out through our nose.
I know…my body is still trying to make sense of what the fuck happened last night.
After what felt like FOREVER. We made it to the last ten minutes of the class and were able to lay down and allow our face to return to a normal shape.
I spread out, excited to get some peace and quiet, when, all of a sudden, a strange and unsettling sound cut through the silence.
Hum, must be a street cleaner or someone moving outside.
The sound gradually became louder and louder. It sounded like we were under attack. Like a plane was going to crash into the studio at any moment.
My heart began to race and I opened my eyes to see if anyone else was freaking out.
Oh my god, is this sound all in my head? Does anyone else hear this?
Panicked, I looked back to the instructor. He was crouched by the gong, his arms making small procussions on the instrument. I couldn’t believe that such a loud and frightening sound could come from a sheet of hanging metal.
I closed my eyes, relieved that I wasn’t losing my marbles.
Class ended and we walked out to the lobby.
“You know” my friend said, “it took me a full year to come back to Kundalini after my first class.”
I smiled, knowing that I would probably say that to someone someday.