Beads of sweat amassed on my brow like paratroopers, dropping in quick succession. I had my forehead on the floor, desperately trying to breathe. I needed help. A godlike figure appeared, an apparition perhaps, with a wispy white beard down to his navel and wild, piercing blue eyes. He walked over and sat on me like he was testing the build quality of a small Ikea coffee table.
What the f&*k.
This was the day I discovered yoga, and my eyes were opened to the world of holistic wellness.
They say that an epiphany can come from the strangest of places and at the most unexpected of times. For Isaac Newton, it was under an apple tree. For Archimedes, it was in a bath, a moment so revelatory, he ran naked through the streets of Greece.
This was my eureka moment. It was no doubt a strange place to find enlightenment, and sadly I didn't discover anything that would change the world. I did, however, discover something that would change my world.
It happened around eight years ago, at a center called Indaba in London's Marylebone. The place was fresh, clean, with people smiling and radiating good vibes.
I walked into the yoga shala, physically unfit and mentally unprepared for the next hour and a half. Vast circular radiators overhead were blazing down heat, making me feel like an ant under a magnifying glass.
I had stumbled unwittingly into the path of an infamous yoga instructor. He looked like the real deal, a proper yogini. Then I heard his thick Glaswegian drawl, and I was fascinated.
"Come to the front of your mat," he said.
I looked around nervously.
"Nice deep breath in..."
OK, I've got this, I thought to myself...
Suddenly the whole room erupted into a chant.
Boo rum brum haaaaaa Boo rum brum haaaaaa Shut ti shut ti shut ti Ahhhhhbbbbbbbbhbbbbbbbmmmmmmm
I was so out of my depth; it was ridiculous.
"Everyone switch on your ujjayi pranayama breath."
The whole room began breathing together, perfectly synchronized like a hive mind. It was a thing of beauty. It sounded like waves lapping at a Mediterranean pebble beach.
This was amazing.
I switched on my ujjayi breath. Mine raspberried out of me, like the last flaccid gasp of a carefully placed whoopie cushion.
Screw it. I was going to give this everything I had. Every last ounce.
I desperately tried to catch the eye of Carla, but she was one whoopie away from uncontrollable laughter. She refused my gaze and looked forward, steadfast.
You told me this would be easy, I thought to myself.
After less than two minutes, I'd given up on proper yoga breathing. This was survival.
I stretched, contorted, and balanced. Red-faced, breathless, sweat spraying from my body like golf course sprinklers.
I was on all fours, at my most vulnerable.
Ooooooofffffff
The Glaswegian guru sat down on my back.
I was inches from fainting, precariously close to a whoopie of my own making. The vein on my forehead was pulsing hideously like bad '80s horror film prosthetics.
"You thought this would be easy, didn't you? You thought Carla just came to these, and it was just a few stretches. This is an advanced class!"
Maybe it was the lack of oxygen, heat exhaustion, or that I had just touched God, but when I went into shavasana, something happened.
Revelation.
I had suddenly realized what Carla had been on about for all these years. The buzz, the rush, this incredible feeling.
The teacher in question was Stuart Gilchrist. A phenomenal teacher, his class completely blew my mind. His energy, enthusiasm, and passion made for an incredible experience. Life-changing.
He was funny. Really funny. He'd play hardcore reggae while ranting about Maggie Thatcher. He'd give brilliant Sanskrit teachings followed by fascinating historical knowledge.
The light had been switched on, both in the shala and in my mind. My blinkers had been ripped off, and I was running around half-naked, covered in sweat, and chanting like a madman.
Not so far from Archimedes after all.
Falling in love with yoga happened a long time ago, and it has been a journey filled with lessons, laughter, and the occasional whoopie cushion-like breath.
For anyone who doubts the holistic world, I can only say: go in with an open mind, be ready to explore, and see what happens. When you find something that clicks, maybe you have a thing or a handful of things. It's life-changing. No joke.
So, my friends, don't be afraid to dive into the unknown, embrace the sweat and the sometimes bizarre world of holistic wellness. Whether you're a complete novice or a seasoned yogi, keep an open mind, explore new things, and find your own eureka moment.
You never know; it might just change your world, too.