Sports play a crucial role in promoting mental health. I have always been an active person and enjoy sports, having tried different kinds of classes such as Zumba, spinning, aerobics, and bootcamps. They are all great cardio workouts, and I was lucky to have motivational instructors that pushed me to the max. In a workout class, all you ask for is a great instructor and loud, energetic music that will make you go crazy and sweat.
As a new me now, I decided to try a new sport: yoga. Yoga has powerful effects on the body, brain, and soul. It calms the mind, relieves chronic stress patterns, brings peace to your consciousness, and definitely improves your sleep.
I am surrounded by yoga instructors. My neighbor on the right side is a Portuguese yogi, and my neighbor on the left side is an Aussie yogi. Being motivated by both, I decided to give it a try. I have never been a fan, but it is a great sport for the body and mind and will help you switch off from life stress, and kids and husband (that’s another story). I don’t mind an extra hour of napping; I never thought it would be a challenging sport. Inhaling, exhaling—who doesn’t know how to breathe? And some stretches—wow, easy! I’ve never been flexible in my life, but it’s worth trying.
I got myself ready and joined the ladies’ class, so I joined the instructor on my right side, the Portuguese. She does Vinyasa. She is calm and patient and homeschools two boys independently. She gave birth to her boy at home, so she is perfect for a beginner like me. So what the heck, let’s get wild. As usual, her classes are always full. I placed right in the first row to follow the moves correctly and stay focused. Everyone welcomed me, praised the class, and encouraged me to chill and follow. “Nada, you will love it and leave the class in another mood.”
Here we go. Class started, and not even 15 minutes had passed when I felt exhausted. For your info, yoga is not easy; trying to disconnect from the outside world and focus on your breathing while relaxing your muscles is entirely complicated. I thought giving birth was difficult, but no, I gave birth to three kids, and I survived. Now, I was praying to live through that session. Not to mention the brain—how will I disconnect it when I think about millions of chores to do later in the day and all the events that happened to me in the last week or a month, maybe since my childhood came to my mind? I started to talk to myself about things that occurred, how I was supposed to deal with them, and what I should have said to my kids. Oh no, I should do this, do that. I need to pick up my toddler, and ooooh, what shall I cook? I even had a conversation with myself.
While all this was happening in my mind, something unexpected happened. All the ladies were focusing on their breathing and doing the down-facing dog pose, and in one silent moment when all were quiet, I let it out, and yes, I let it out. I tried to squeeze it in as much as possible but couldn’t. I did my best; now if you don’t know what I mean, I farted, yes, I farted out loud. I can’t believe what happened; all eyes were on me, and I was red as a tomato. Here is one piece of advice and take it from me: never eat beans the night before. NEVER.
It was so embarrassing, but did I care? No, was it normal? Yes, we all do it. How would I deal with this situation, especially since most of the ladies are my neighbors? I see them daily, and we always meet. This means that we talk about it always, and they will never forget the incident; they may even share it with their husbands and kids. It would be a catastrophic situation for me, and now I should pack and move somewhere far away. Aaah, my brain is blowing out. I thought I was doomed, but suddenly, I cracked up out loud and couldn’t care less. All eyes were on me. The ladies were shocked and cracked up laughing. Paula looked at me, saying, “Nada, it is normal, better out than in,” as if nothing happened, the class continued.
If I were younger, I would have moved out, but who gives a flick, thanks to my hormonal imbalance, my mood swings, and reaching a phase in my life where I do what makes me happy and what pleases me with all due respect to everyone, it was only a fart. You open the window and get fresh air, and that’s it. Life goes on, not a tragedy.
And so begins the saga: Welcome to my new phase, the tell-all of my most blush-worthy blunders. Here, we’ll chuckle over the tales that make us cringe just thinking about them.
And just in case you’re curious about my yogic journey—yes, I stuck with it even after Paula packed up her mats. Now, I’m bending and breathing with Emma, the Aussie yogi next door.
Nada Najjar
