LIGHTEN UP YOGA Tips on surviving yoga retreats with family by Virginia Woodhead
"I'm Frank from Mars." This is what my brother said when we went around the table with introductions on the first evening of a yoga retreat in Mexico last year, and could give you some idea of what was in store for us the rest of the week.
Pretty soon, as our hostess was speaking about the "ocean of joy" we would experience here, my husband left the table telling me he was going to take care of his "ocean within."
After years of being the only one in my family doing yoga, and after years of creating frequent flyer miles on my visa, I seduced a bunch of my family into going on a yoga retreat with me. In enticing my family with the exotic experience of Mexico, I had made, it seemed on this night, a pretty gross error thinking they could take yoga seriously.
That was Saturday.
Sunday, my journal says: "Evening interview about yoga. " I remember we were sitting around talking before dinner. I wonder why I didn't write "evening discussion."
Judy (my sister-in-law): The afternoon was better. I enjoyed it more. In the morning I would rather be out exploring. This is the first time I have been looked at like that since I was a child in ballet class.
Frank: I learned that it's better to drink a lot of water before class and go to the bathroom during class.
Henry: I noticed the time dragged on forever. Being covered up with a blanket made me feel like a little child. Did not like that. Too complicated in the afternoon - all that blanket folding. (He drew his version of one of many blanker foldings we had done that afternoon. See drawing.)
We all laughed, but I was secretly worried.
From this conversation, my husband and my brother began to come up with a list of "Tips for Surviving a Yoga Vacation."
Here are a few of the tips for survival:
- Get to class early and get a mat by the exit, so when the teacher says, "You are all welcome to stay for chanting," you can leave immediately. (This, and others tips were learned from watching more experienced retreat goers.)
- Close your eyes and pretend rapture so you don't have to do the pose again. (They wouldn't dare interrupt you.)
- If they call it restorative, then you'd better skip it, because you'll be doing a lot of confusing and embarrassing things with blankets.
- When given instructions for a pose that's going to last a long time, wait until the last minute to get all the way into the pose. (i.e. mess with the blanket or your feet to get it just right.)
- When the teacher says, "Do a few more of those until you're balanced," stop immediately.
And so it went. By the second day, my husband was telling me I was doing a pose wrong. By the third day, Judy had the guts to play hooky from the morning class, and the men followed suite by skipping the afternoon class. Things seemed to be falling apart. I did my best to practice detachment.
And the next morning, to my huge surprise, everyone went to class. Someone else, not my family, asked in class if anyone ever barked in dog pose.
By the end of the week everyone was singing yoga's praises, how good they felt, how much they loved the retreat (we'd been to the jungle, gone swimming in an ancient cenote (sink hole), had fantastic food, and even done some shopping) and how they'd done poses they'd never thought they could. And the jokes never ceased.
When my husband was in backbend, Frank called out, "Henry, could you hold that pose; Virginia wants to make a sketch."
By the time we went to Maui this year, my sensitivity to the jokes had subsided, and thank goodness, the humor is still high on our yoga agenda. In fact we all made complete fools of ourselves in a skit our last evening. That was fantastically fun. There seems to be a rather positive attitude in my family towards yoga now. We even got Henry's sister to go with us, and I overheard Henry tell someone "Get your husband to go on a yoga retreat. It's a great way to get introduced to yoga!"
So, Henry, where are we going next, and who's going with us?