Is it good or bad that, of course, there are also those women here who I instinctively cannot stand? Yoga would say (I guess) it just is; I take the non-judging and attempt to see it as an exercise to explore why this particular specimen presses my buttons so intensely.
In less cryptic terms, this one is in wild, narcissistic need of attention and care, to the point that it feels as if she treats each group session as her personal yoga training; with a whiny voice as if always in pain, always victimized and she does seem genuinely struggling and unhappy.
Yet I resent the liberal amount of space she assumes and is given. Where I withdraw, she demands.
today she released some of her anxieties in a smaller group, and along with others, I offered my coins of wisdom (which she instantly and wholeheartedly rejected, "no it's different for me").
Fine (whatever).(negativity spent)
Yesterday she told me of her nervous breakdown and again, pressed me oddly, what exactly I wanted to do after this - a question which many, except for the very young, thankfully also like to exclude from conversation. it's like a pact -, and kept asking very specific questions, how many hours I taught etc. It's as if she wants to find a weak spot or play "compare and fake."
Today she needed to share (in meditation class) that she is in terror of her cat dying because she knows she couldn't take it, and how to prepare for it.
The social aspect is definitely the hardest for me. I feel exhausted with the noise level, and the relentless positivity which causes me to withdraw - probably, in yogi terms, to balance or even things out - and then I panic about becoming the social pariah. Even when I return refreshed and make an effort at socializing - the girls are quite amazing, each in their own way - I can be happy at their enthusiasm, but I cannot match it. I can be the odd one in the background, smiling awkwardly along, and I don't like that.
Today, laughing yoga, was torture. Could they not have me cry first? I don't think I have never experienced feeling safe in such a large group, among people who I do not know well, and feeling like a loser at laughing (not to mention fulfilling a stereotype about Germans). However, I was promised there will also be crying yoga, at which I might excel (none of which is the point obviously), or perhaps that is "sharing Saturday" - which I also dread, no idea what I could or want to share -; last Saturday there were many tears.
New Nike tries to let those remarks/judgments/situations and thoughts float past like twigs in Mama Ganga, who I watch very day from "The Royal Cafe", my favorite food spot, where I am working my way through the menu. Their Chai is fantastic, so is the Indian food and what was called Greek salad (in spite of feta from a tube); soups (can), vegetables (cans or cabbage drenched in oil) are dreadful.
I hate and assume that I will not fit into this group; and I mourn that, watching out on Mama Ganga, I feel so much more at peace, unwatched, unjudged. That thought that I can only be okay alone. Another twig, perhaps.
Did I mention that
- it rains every day, often so torrential that the teachers have to shout (which they don't all do) to make themselves understood;
- momos and other Nepalese food are a big thing
- Rishikesh is firmly in yogi hands: everything is organic,Ayurveda, natural nourish etc, the town is vegetarian bordering/going on vegan, and of course no alcohol; movement is basically out by 11 o'clock at night but who'd need that given class starts at 6 or 6:30;
- the rain thing is a bit of a bummer for my post-teacher training plans. Against my anticipations, almost nobody came with a guide and so far nobody plans to stay in India after (some travelled a bit before). I finally found one lonely planet, and the Intel that Goa is still in off-season, with no swimming, diving, and many places closed. As I really do not feel like having the "real India" experience - apparently it includes being constantly hustled, molestation, pollution, wrecked nerves - and after checking out endlessly other options (all impractical or with similar problems) - I decided on goa anyway. Apparently it's stunning and cheaper now.
In less cryptic terms, this one is in wild, narcissistic need of attention and care, to the point that it feels as if she treats each group session as her personal yoga training; with a whiny voice as if always in pain, always victimized and she does seem genuinely struggling and unhappy.
Yet I resent the liberal amount of space she assumes and is given. Where I withdraw, she demands.
today she released some of her anxieties in a smaller group, and along with others, I offered my coins of wisdom (which she instantly and wholeheartedly rejected, "no it's different for me").
Fine (whatever).(negativity spent)
Yesterday she told me of her nervous breakdown and again, pressed me oddly, what exactly I wanted to do after this - a question which many, except for the very young, thankfully also like to exclude from conversation. it's like a pact -, and kept asking very specific questions, how many hours I taught etc. It's as if she wants to find a weak spot or play "compare and fake."
Today she needed to share (in meditation class) that she is in terror of her cat dying because she knows she couldn't take it, and how to prepare for it.
The social aspect is definitely the hardest for me. I feel exhausted with the noise level, and the relentless positivity which causes me to withdraw - probably, in yogi terms, to balance or even things out - and then I panic about becoming the social pariah. Even when I return refreshed and make an effort at socializing - the girls are quite amazing, each in their own way - I can be happy at their enthusiasm, but I cannot match it. I can be the odd one in the background, smiling awkwardly along, and I don't like that.
Today, laughing yoga, was torture. Could they not have me cry first? I don't think I have never experienced feeling safe in such a large group, among people who I do not know well, and feeling like a loser at laughing (not to mention fulfilling a stereotype about Germans). However, I was promised there will also be crying yoga, at which I might excel (none of which is the point obviously), or perhaps that is "sharing Saturday" - which I also dread, no idea what I could or want to share -; last Saturday there were many tears.
New Nike tries to let those remarks/judgments/situations and thoughts float past like twigs in Mama Ganga, who I watch very day from "The Royal Cafe", my favorite food spot, where I am working my way through the menu. Their Chai is fantastic, so is the Indian food and what was called Greek salad (in spite of feta from a tube); soups (can), vegetables (cans or cabbage drenched in oil) are dreadful.
I hate and assume that I will not fit into this group; and I mourn that, watching out on Mama Ganga, I feel so much more at peace, unwatched, unjudged. That thought that I can only be okay alone. Another twig, perhaps.
Did I mention that
- it rains every day, often so torrential that the teachers have to shout (which they don't all do) to make themselves understood;
- momos and other Nepalese food are a big thing
- Rishikesh is firmly in yogi hands: everything is organic,Ayurveda, natural nourish etc, the town is vegetarian bordering/going on vegan, and of course no alcohol; movement is basically out by 11 o'clock at night but who'd need that given class starts at 6 or 6:30;
- the rain thing is a bit of a bummer for my post-teacher training plans. Against my anticipations, almost nobody came with a guide and so far nobody plans to stay in India after (some travelled a bit before). I finally found one lonely planet, and the Intel that Goa is still in off-season, with no swimming, diving, and many places closed. As I really do not feel like having the "real India" experience - apparently it includes being constantly hustled, molestation, pollution, wrecked nerves - and after checking out endlessly other options (all impractical or with similar problems) - I decided on goa anyway. Apparently it's stunning and cheaper now.
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