Whenever I get nauseous I look at my feet. That way I don’t see the ceiling right over my head or the sea of people blocking the narrow passageway in front of me and occupying the space of my theoretical escape route behind me. It took me 4 minutes to walk the 50 meters from one side of the platform to the other. Its not that its a very long time, or the energy of the crowd. Its the tiny underground space these four minutes and hundreds of people are crammed into. I look up to check which direction I’m going and feel dizzy. Feet, my feet. There are nobody here.
“Shhh” I press my ear against his chest to listen to the silence inside a giant vortex drawing everything in and under water. Things disappear in there to never resurface. I’m not sure if they drown or if they are just cushioned and held in this space. I’m not sure what the difference is either. So I close my eyes and plunge into those black, sweet waters. You ever only see the Moon and the Sun in the same sky for a short while, but they are always in love.
I slowly lower my body down to the floor, poking my bum up and pressing my elbows into my sides. Then slither forward to arch my back and look towards my anja chakra. My shoulders peel back and pull my heart open, I feel my whole body shining. without any effort I lift myself up again as I roll over the tips of my toes to press backwards. I am in child’s pose on my mat, in the international sunshine arts’ studio, on the floor, on the Earth. My teacher places her hands on my sacrum and helps me go deeper, I press out two drops of salty gratitude from my eyes.