Saturday, November 6, 2010

The Janus Week

No puns about Jane and "anus," please. What I mean is, this week had two very different faces. It was also the week that was horrible until it wasn't.
Monday night's class was taught by a grim Latvian man who, as I described earlier, talked so fast that I thought I was at a cattle auction back in Alberta. Some people, especially younger women, thought he was great. Others, such as Bettina and I, thought he was arrogant.
Tuesday night's lecture: Dom, whose name must be getting close to "Doom" by now, had to tell us all that there'll be no yearbook for this year's TT. Reason? The expense. Poor Dom, always having to be the cold spoon in the souffle.
Thursday I also found out that one of my favourite volunteers, a man whose face always made me feel peaceful, was fired for having a relationship with one of the trainees. This breaks the "no F*cky-f*cky" rule (the other rules include "No drinky-drinky" and "No smoky-smoky"). The trainee was not asked to leave. At first it was another "Oh no, you're kidding me" moment. Later more details surfaced that brought up the question as to whether the volunteer had wanted to leave, and sought a reason. I don't know the real reason, but I do know that I'm sad he's gone -- and I do not resent the trainee involved, which apparently puts me in the minority. I don't know both sides of the story, but I'm sad it's a story at all, you know?
And then, when the oddly dark week seemed like it couldn't get any darker, Himself went off on a fairly sexist tangent in Friday morning's class that led to several people shouting at him in anger during the class, and one student confronting him afterwards. You could almost see the fury clouds gathering over the resort, people were that upset. As for me, well . . . I'm pretty used to Himself's cultural and gender-specific biases by now, so I repeated the wisdom of the old and hale psychiatrist: Ach, who listens? But I was disturbed to hear that the student who confronted Himself was told to get out of the training camp there and then -- however, she was in class today (Saturday), so I'm hopeful that she'll be able to stay. But what anger and grief and cruelty in the heart of yogaland! I couldn't get over what a bitter week it had become.
And then . . . Friday afternoon, the redemption. Three yogis from Victoria are currently in town: Ida, Niecia and Veronika. I had the chance to give Niecia and Veronika a ride to Whole Foods, and they cheerfully coached me through the dialogue for Camel Posture. Next, in posture clinic, who shows up but Niecia! Yay! And it was a delight from beginning to end. I was asked to leave the room before delivering dialogue, and in my absence the evaluators Jo, Noella and Niecia got everyone, not just the usual three demonstrators, but everyone in the room to follow my instructions. I came striding into the room and -- WHOA! -- and suddenly I couldn't stop grinning. I had so much fun delivering the dialogue to the crowd, some of whom had been coached to misbehave, that at the end I nearly danced a jig. Niecia's and Veronika's coaching really paid off. In fact, I couldn't stop chuckling throughout the rest of the clinic, especially when Peter F. and I were asked to misbehave during a fellow student, Mark's, dialogue. Peter got me giggling so hard I nearly had to leave the room.
In this happy and relieved mood I went to the yoga bubble for evening class, and -- wow! No way! Ida was teaching! Ida's a world silver medallist in yoga, and is one of the most energizing yoginis out there. I realized, as she began, that I really missed her classes -- and the other yogis from home. Suddenly the week of darkness and rage began to beam with laughter and comfort. I remembered why this is such an incredible, soul-satisfying experience. I don't say that the awful parts of the week were worth it, but I do know that even a yoga-filled life is going to have its bad moments.
So Week Seven is nearly gone, which means only two weeks remain. I get a little choked when I think of saying goodbye to my new and very dear friends. So I don't think I will say goodbye to them, just give them a heads up to expect me on their doorsteps before too long. Because if they can put up with a week this this, let alone a friend like me, you know they're amazing.


  1. How have I only NOW found your blog? I've just read a few posts but I love your raw, sarcastic wit.

    Found ya through a mention by Josie/Nameste, by the way. I'm a San Diegan non-trainee that has been following the training madness with more than a hint of curiosity. Peace out--sounds like you're experiencing quite a lot right now.

  2. Heya, Yolk E: Training here is unlike any other experience in my life. At this stage (start of the 8th week), all feelings are magnified, i.e., you feel really GREAT or absolutely HORRIBLE. I'm glad you like the blog -- and if you ever go to training (which I absolutely recommend), I hope you write one, too, so I can read yours. Love your name, "Yolk E," too! Jane

  3. Yolk E and I were in class on Friday night with Ida, and I thought it was so cool when she gave you a correction!

    Also, I thought of you as class started. Yolk E and I and her friend were set up in the back row, and who was in front of us in blue shorts but... that's right, Bel Carpenter! I doubt I'd have known it was him, except for the photo you had on here. (Well, and his mat said "Bel." )

    So glad that you're soaking in the "incredible, soul-satisfying experience." :)