I’m gonna tell you about love
Let’s forget your life
forget your problems
Administration, bills and loans
Come with me
come with me
opening words of Confessions Tour, by Madonna
10 minutes and I’m turning 39.
White skinny pants, white top with the distinctive ribbons of a Saph bra showing through. Despite good resolutions not to drink after yesterday’s birthday party, I poured myself a big glass of red wine. My new Madonna Confessions Tour dvd is playing. The Valerie Tasso book, also a gift, is next to me. My duty is to write about the results of my 4 week yoga challenge, but the biggest challenge seems to write about yoga when my mind is clearly somewhere else.
My head is overflowing with bright memories of 1991. Heavy with dark longing for my new lover. It’s a good thing I made some notes the past four weeks, so that I can at least share some of everything I accomplished through yoga. Or through not doing yoga. I am not too sure how much yoga has to do with any of it. But let me start at the beginning.
The Yoga Challenge. The one I shared with you four weeks ago; me doing yoga every day for four weeks leading up to my B-day, in order to experience the “and all is coming” effect the yoga guru promised us. I described the anticipated result as turning into a wealthy, female Nostradamus, with a good-looking handy man in my life to “do chores around the house”( …). All this and losing 5 kilo. Which seemed to me even less feasible than predicting the future with lucid dreaming.
The Challenge itself. Did I do yoga every day? No, I didn’t. I dare say the number of minutes I spent on my yoga mat the past month resembled that of a college girl with free access to XTC and the boy’s dorm. And yet, magical things happened which I did not experience any time else in my life.
It started with the dreaming. The notes I made testify that the past four weeks the Netherlands were invaded by aliens. That I planned a one night stand and then ran into New Benjamin/Valentino. That I married a small despicable Chinese in order to give him a green card. That I was hired to massage President Obama, but that he didn’t like it and massaged me instead. He told me secrets I forgot.
Since the yoga challenge I go to bed completely excited about all the new adventures waiting for me in the dead of night.
A 1000 euro bill for studio rent. A 150 euro insurance bill. A lock that needed replacing because I had left the key in and closed the door behind me. Yes, I had some setbacks this month. But also an epiphany: that I needed a normal job. And a week later I had progressed to: that I wanted a normal job. I aspire to make a full come-back to the academic world I left behind ten years ago.
The men in my life. I got chats from ex-lovers A. and Nubian Prince. Some lovely notes from once-potential lovers The Jock and McDreamy. A note from a celebrity actor. And I met a young man, Valentijn, who nurtures both me and a very deep sexual side of me. My darkest fantasies lightened up the moment he entered my bedroom. I blossom. There is no better word for it.
And the yoga itself? In the final week of my failing practice new ideas about yoga emerged. I designed series of 6 exercises that I could fit into 10 minutes. I started enjoying one-pose yoga breaks at odd moments during the day. Did breathing exercises before night time. And one night I sat and fell into a state of meditation. It was quiet and peaceful and I met a boy I met in 1991, the 19 year old Real Benjamin. We talked. He gave me advice. But most of all I was relieved to see him, and realized how much I had missed him.
So, does yoga bring all? Is it true that “All is coming” if you engage in the challenge of a daily yoga practice? Yes, my experiment shows it does.
But the true challenge is not to do your yoga, but to realize your life needs work, and that good ideas, solid solutions and heavenly helpers are waiting to pop in to lend you a helping hand.
And if you, like me, need yoga to find that receptive modus then try theYoga Challenge for yourself.
There are times when I wish that I could get inspired by real guru’s, real yoga. That I had a consistent 90 minutes-a-day yoga practice, and would go to India on a quest for God and deeper understanding of myself. But today I wish none of those things.
Today I celebrate that Madonna is my teacher, that 19 year old Real Benjamin my God, and that my heart is still raw for New Benjamin. I rejoice that I have Valentijn who helps me face the darkest sides of me.
Today I’m turning 39, and All Has Come.