It’s the last day full day at the retreat today, and I feel a combination of sadness, relief and a deep, fundamental dissatisfaction, as whilst my yoga has improved and my passion for it reawakened, my fears of mixing with people I didn’t know for a week and not fitting in were well and truly founded, so I am not, as I hoped I’d be, reassured that I am ready to venture out into the big wide world as a fully socialised adult again.
It’s not the retreat owner’s fault though.
I mean they didn’t advertising, ‘yoga, meditation, great food and a chance to make your nutty self more acceptable to a broader section of society’, did they?’
I’m ready to go home.
But I’ll so miss this beautiful place, the yoga, my teacher, my sadistic masseur and the resident retreat cat who has stepped into the shoes, sorry, paws of my boys whilst I’ve been here and always comes by to yowl a greeting and get his daily cuddle. I may keep in touch with one or two of the other guests, but long term it’s unlikely, and I feel myself detaching more and more from them, even my bathroom/toilet sharing neighbour.
Any chance of making friendships for live is now pretty much over.
That’s another thing I won’t miss; the food. It is delicious and ‘healthy’ in it’s way but they serve way too much of it, and I feel a bit like a foie gras goose whose liver is about to explode. My jeans are tourniquet tight, and I have a dimply, porridgy muffin top, so I’ll be back on animal flesh, wine and bread when I get home as I want my figure back, plus it will be great to stop pooing all the time!
Nor will I miss those creepy dreams of the ole Ginger Minger, have yet to figure out what that is all about.
The majority of us stay around the pool for the day, hoping to make the most of the sunshine before going home, but clouds are never far away and a sense of unease breaks out as we all give up the ghost and head off to our rooms to start our packing so that we just have to shove in today’s clothes before heading off to the airport in the morning.
The last big hurdle I have to tackle before heading back to Blighty is the looming threat of a bit of Ecstatic Dancing as a last night send off.
There is no getting out of this one, as (a) I’d suggested it to the Manager (on arrival, when I thought I might make ‘friends’ to play with – ha!), (b) she’d gone out of her way to set it up, (c) it’s now being hailed as the highlight of the evening, so like it or not I was going to have to get my groove on tonight.
Before that though, was the Last Supper.
I’d told myself this morning that I’d only eat half of whatever was served tonight, so that I could give my poor old guts a break, but when it came to it, it looked so delicious, and it was our last proper meal, so I end up scoffing it all down and ended up with a nice big ‘post Christmas Dinner’ sized belly full of impacted mulch, so couldn’t wait for things to get started so I could swing my pants!
And when the time came, I shamefully slope off to my room to ‘change my shoes’, but our teacher, sensing passive rebellion touched my arm gently and assured me that she’d wait for me before starting so the die was cast.
Whilst there was no one I was really close enough to enjoy bouncing around like a twat with, thankful we put in place a ‘no cameras’ rule, the room was pretty dark so I thought sod it, threw caution to the wind and went for it.
And it was fun!
Unlike that New Moon thingy I went to, the music was well chosen, great to dance to, and soon everyone was getting down with their bad selves. Miss NFEFM (see yesterday’s post) was predictably the biggest show off of all, but it was so dark even she shelved behaving like a dick after 10 minutes or so, and I soon managed to lose myself in the music and even exchanged smiles with some of the others as we flitted passed each another on the dance floor.
Ironically, what enabled me to do this was my ‘fuck ‘em, I don’t care’ attitude, and for their part I don’t think they’d ever seen me so animated for the entire holiday. Most of them were 5 rhythms virgins, and it was a pleasure to see them lose their initial inhibitions and really get into it.
We prance around, whooped, swung, pirouetted and cheered, and finally the music went into stillness when we curled up on the floor, or stood swaying, chanting ‘Om Namah Shivaya’.
And as the chant penetrated my psyche the meaning rang true, that true consciousness dwells in us all; I am them, they are me and there is more that binds than separates us and I should see God within them and not fight it or judge them so much.
Or anyone for that matter.
As the music ended, we all got to our feet and a couple of them ran over to thank me for suggesting the activity and said how much they had enjoyed themselves.
I was elated that we had finally connected in some way.
Perhaps some of us will become and remain friends beyond these walls?
‘I did feel a bit stupid at first’ one of the more prim, proper girls confessed, ‘but it’s the last day and no one was looking at me anyway!’
‘Exactly!’ I enthused, ‘And the best part of it is that it doesn’t matter anyway as you never have to see any of these people ever again!’
Stunned silence slipped into the atmosphere like an anchor into a cold, dark sea…..
Think I pretty much killed that moment…..
Their faces are a picture and I almost get the giggles, but you know what?
I might have been clumsy, tactless or whatever, but I had spoken my truth, and had not meant to deliberately hurt anyone.
So I brazened it out, laughed it off in their cold faces, bid goodbye to my wonderful yoga teacher and headed off to bed.
You think it’s all over?
Yup, me too….
Onwards and upwards.
Sleep in, then only breakfast, then taxi to the airport and journey home to get through.
Bring it on.