Trying out new things

As part of our YTT program, we are asked to take three extra classes per week in addition to the ones required for the program. Yesterday I decided to check out a Kundalini class, not quite sure what to expect but, as usual, keeping an open mind.

After inviting us to find our comfortable seat, the teacher led us through a round of ohms. This was unlike any other ohm I had ever experienced, it was so loud and piercing that I nearly jumped out of my skin. Yet it was exactly what I had been needing at that moment - on the way to class, I felt so lackadaisical that even as I laid down my mat I was regretting not skipping class to go catch a nap. Once the ohms assaulted my brain, I was ready to tackle anything.

As a student who is accustomed to a certain ritual in class - sun salutations, warriors, arm balances, forward stretches - I was shocked again to find that this Kundalini class would offer nothing of the sort. If strength training were to meet yoga along a path, their union would be Kundalini. While none of the movements in themselves were difficult, it was their lengthy repetition that would leave me sore the next day, and most likely the day following that as well. For someone like myself who sometimes misses the competitive nature that is so lacking in a standard yoga class, Kundalini seems to be a perfect alternative for this problem.

Feeling almost light-bodied, having torn away all my worries and anxieties for the day, I melted onto my mat in a grateful savasana, awaiting those blissful few moments of peace that would allow my mind to wander a moment, my body to rest and prepare for embracing the rest of the day. I almost should have expected what happened next to come. I felt the teacher moving to the back of the studio and then experienced a series of gongs, crescendoing and falling away, each pulse kneading my mind.

Would I go again? Perhaps. But I would definitely expect the unexpected to occur, and in turn, to find myself enjoying the experience for its unpredictability.