Yoga Retreat: Day 2

Is there anything better than waking up to sounds of nature? 

Maybe falling asleep to them.

Up early and off to yoga at 8AM, Ken, thankfully, started us off slowly (although I swear our muscles gave a collective groan of protest at the stretches). We spent almost two hours working through different yoga poses. Luckily, our reward was a delicious meal, a Turkish breakfast with the requisite homemade jams and honey, as well as tahini with pomegranate that looked like thick caramel. The fresh-baked bread – in the form of a large, round, thick, dense cake – was a slice (or two or three) of carbohydrate heaven. There were ripe-red tomatoes, creamy cheeses, and salty, oil-drenched olives, as well as fresh fruit, yoghurt and muesli. Yum.

After breakfast and a short reprieve, there was the writing workshop.  

Reprieve being the operative word.

Turns out, my idea of joining the writing workshop as a compliment to my yoga experience may not have been the greatest idea. I mean, there were honest-to-goodness writers in the class for crying out loud. Who would have thought? That knowledge alone would have been sufficiently intimidating. Finding out that we had to read our writing out loud about threw me into a panic.

(Who am I kidding? It did throw me into a panic.)

Especially when the writing that we had to read out loud were pieces that we were given only minutes to compose.

Minutes.

As in less than one thousand teensy, weensy, tiny seconds.

Writing, by the way, that had to be inspired by a very uninspiring picture handed out to us.

(Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad of picture. Forgive my moment of sour grapes.)

So, this picture was to elicit from deep within our well of literary genius magical words that would not only motivate a reader to stay awake, but would captivate and enthrall him.

 In less than one thousand teensy, weensy, tiny seconds. 

Luckily (as in get-down-on-your-knees-and-kiss-the-ground-with-gratitude lucky), our first exercise consisted of reading out loud to just one other person (as opposed to the entire group of THIRTEEN!!). Still, I was humiliated at having to read aloud my pathetic attempt which would have made even the writers of Harlequin romances cringe (my apologies to any Harlequin fans). Luckily (as in jump-in-the-air-and-scream-‘hallelujah!’ lucky), I read before my partner did.

Because she had managed to spin together a wonderful, witty tale that motivated me to stay awake, that captivated and enthralled me, and she had done it in less than one thousand teensy, weensy, tiny seconds.

Bitch.

(No, actually she is quite nice.)

I calmed myself with the thought that I am not a think-fast-on-her-feet kind of gal.

And that I could fake menstrual cramps the following day to get out of class.

The afternoon yoga class was luckily much kinder on my ego and spirit. We pretty much spent the entire two hours on our backs, rolling and twisting into different positions that stretched parts of our bodies we didn’t know we had. Similar to the morning yoga session, afterward we were rewarded for our ‘hard’ work with a delicious dinner.

And a few glasses of wine.

Which my bruised ego and stiff body sorely needed.

(By the way, the hotel has a great system for keeping track of the alcohol we drink. We put down tally marks next to a list with our names on it, indicating the number of waters, Cokes, beers or bottles of wine (ahem) we drink. Talk about a great way of ensuring one doesn’t over imbibe.)

(On the other hand, with this fun group, we may all try to out-tally-mark each other.)

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