Heart Full

I’ve been looking forward to my home coming for months, especially since this time we’d be able to go on a mini getaway — Boracay Philippines. Boracay is one of the most beautiful beaches in the Philippines IMHO. Admittedly it’s become quite commericalized — as seen by the beach front Starbucks, but the white sand is still powdery soft, and the water a sparkling blue crystal. It takes your breath away.  There’s almost no better place to do yoga, and after having no luck in finding an open studio in Manila (many closed during the holidays) — I figured my yoga would be whatever I could craft up on the beach.

But my ever observant husband, actually found a yoga studio right along the beach — True Yoga. Located just about “True Food” an Indian restaurant on the main strip. They only offered classes at 9am (daily) after which the “studio” converts to a restaurant. No worries, some yoga is better than no yoga.  I was the first one to arrive at 8:50am sharp, most of the other students trickled in around 9am-9:30am in fact the instructor didn’t get there until close to 9:30. It was a casual setting, some regulars, but a few tourists (like myself). I found out that there were about ~3 instructors and they rotated yoga styles daily between Hatha, Sivananda and Anusara. Lovely.

The instructor was lively and friendly. She chatted to other students about kids — hers were apparently in college — surprising as I wouldn’t have put her a day past 35. Sensing that there was a lot of different practice styles around the room she announced that today’s class would be Hatha yoga “just the classics”. Great, I was looking forward to a non-flow class where natural music wouldn’t have to compete with the manufactured sounds.  But it didn’t turn out so great for me. Hard to believe given the view — the most jaw dropping post-card ready view any yoga studio is likely to have, or the acoustics of lapping waters, I somehow couldn’t get it together in class. And I’m not entirely sure why. I think it was a lot of different little things. I’d mildly pulled my hamstring recently, so still dealing with the frustration of not being able to be as mobile. The girl next to me was called “Mary” and the teacher’s pronunciation made it sound like it could’ve been my name — so verbal adjustments were a challenge. And I guess I just wasn’t happy with the poses. The instructor seemed like she had a specific way of doing the poses — and didn’t seem thrilled with my modifications. I’m also not a big fan of teachers who give advanced poses — and encourage their beginner students to “just try it”, without a lot of instruction or other options. So I saw a number of half lotuses achieved by rotating the knees rather than finding the opening in the hips. Scary. An injury just waiting to happen.

By the end of class I was so testy about the whole experience I left so fast — I actually walked out of the studio wearing someone elses shoes. Unbelievable.