This morning I woke up early in the morning and hurriedly ironed a shirt and a denim jacket. Then I showered and shaved my head, and then raced to yoga in the morning. I questioned if it was wise, I hadn’t even packed yet, and coming back home I would only have a sliver of time to finish before heading to the airport. However often times I experience a force that moves me which is not me, I distinctly felt I had no say in the matter, I would attend my yoga class whether I wanted it or not.

Once would think that with such a lead, something special was bound to happen. But it didn’t, it was exactly what I expected: an intermediate class at a small studio with Camilo, one of my favorite teachers. I usually attend his class on Friday afternoon and he asked me if he would see me in the evening: “no”, I answered, “I’m flying to Mexico in a couple of hours”. He was delighted that I would find the time to attend practice despite my trip.

When I first started practicing with him, I disliked him as a teacher. He takes himself too seriously asking for complete silence before the class begins, will not allow variations, and has a particular way of reciting the asanas which is greatly exaggerated. He will sometimes scold students when they are slacking. In summary I’d say he has a master’s attitude, but he’s not a master.

Over time I grew to like his classes but I can’t explain it rationally, he will often go into very intense sequences and my mind is thinking “give up give up give up” but my body goes on as if it was him and not me commanding it. He studied acting so he will inject a lot of emotion into his mantras, and this somehow has good chemistry with my leveled emotions. Perhaps the very reason why I disliked him in the beginning is why I like him now: he has things which I do not possess (severity, intensity and “emotionality”) and thus I’m picking up a couple of things from him.

Some months ago he announced he was holding a retreat in September. At the time, I still didn’t know if I liked him or not, so I let a couple of weeks pass by until I inquired about it again. “Oh it’s sold out” he told me, “but it’s a shame, I would have really liked that you attended. It’s an advanced group and you’d fit in wonderfully”. His boyfriend encouraged me to sign up for the next one, in December, but my teacher narrowed his eyes and said September would be ideal for me. I shrugged and basically said “whatever, let me know if a space frees up so I can consider attending”. He was visibly disappointed in my lukewarm manner of expressing interest, but this is a lifelong habit of withholding enthusiasm and eagerness.

Some weeks ago his boyfriend approached me before class. He said a spot had opened up for the September retreat, and that the teacher had thought about me as his first option to fill the spot, but I would have to be quick to make the decision. I said “that won’t be a problem, I already know I want to go, I’ll arrange it with Camilo”. When I told V. I had signed up for a retreat she asked where, and I said “to tell you the truth I didn’t even ask”. How many days? I don’t know, most likely three days because of the price. “So all you know is that it’s in September?”, yes, somehow the rest doesn’t matter at all, and I suppose that’s a good sign.

I’ve only attended same day “yoga retreats” and I’ve been disappointed. I suffer greatly with the measly vegetarian portions and the inane conversations. I mostly keep to myself and the only part I actually enjoy is the practice, but that I can do any weekend I want, I’ve created my own “weekend retreats” by attending three classes per day (with generous portions of steak and sacred silence). This is why I’m so estranged at my own attitude. I have another teacher whom I also like a lot and is also holding a retreat but the prospect of attending is unappealing.