Free Lessons with my Yoga instructor by Iris Deorre

It’s only been
four weeks and I’m feeling great. My body has gone into some sort
of submission I can’t explain. I’m all bendy and flexible, it’s a
body I can’t explain anymore. I must admit when I joined the yoga
class I wasn’t expecting to last even two minutes. I mean, it was
suggested to me by my close friend June. To get me out of my
misery, to get over my ex leaving me at such short notice. May I
digress for just a moment and then I will continue to tell my tale
of flexibility.
    I was driving home from a busy day at the office. The traffic
was horrendous as usual on the M62, another crash had happened at
junction 29. I swear, that road must be cursed. Anyway, while I sat
in my car listening to Adele, ‘Set fire to
the rain.’ Now that I think about it, the
song was like some sort of prediction. I had a heavy strange
feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong. I
couldn’t put my finger on it but I just felt it. The need to get
home grew stronger but the cars barely moved on the motorway. So I
decided to give Jason a ring. –That’s my ex.
    His mobile went
straight into voicemail, which was unlike him, he always answered
on the third ring. I left a message then continued to drift along,
but now more than ever the feeling of panic more evident. But the
cars dragged on and on and my heart felt as though it would jump
right out of my chest.
    An hour later
my feelings were confirmed. I walked into our flat and knew
something was wrong. Every light was off, Jason was always home
before I was but not that day. I rushed upstairs and was met with
an empty wardrobe; every single piece of evidence of Jason was
gone. It was as if he’d never set foot in the flat. Panicked I
rushed downstairs as if that would somehow reveal the reason to the
situation. I stood in the living room like a fool. Just stood there
and stared into space. It took a good ten minutes or more –I wasn’t
counting – before I realised that I was standing like a complete
fool.
    I turned around and headed for the kitchen, it felt like the
next best thing to do and it turned out it was. Because in the
kitchen lay the answer on a small yellow post-it note that had been
stuck onto the fridge. This isn’t working
Jess, sorry but I just couldn’t do it anymore. Please don’t try to
contact me.
    How very noble
of him, leaving me a note like that! Every part of me just fell
apart from that moment on. Every limb in my body suddenly became
non existent. The food in the refrigerator now more appealing than
ever; which I think was another reason for June’s kind suggestion
to join a yoga class. But she was adamant that it had nothing to do
with the tipping of the scale, or my healthy habit of chocolate
bars I’d line up from the front door to my bedroom. June said it
would be good for me; the yoga, it would help bring some discipline
and order into my life, something I seemed to be lacking. Not my
thoughts, as far as discipline was concerned I’m the most
disciplined, I mean who else can step onto the scale every morning
without fail then raid the cookie jar every time. Not to mention
there is always a good supply in every kitchen and living room
cupboard I could find. Now that’s what I call discipline. So that
was it, the reason I ended up doing yoga of all things, which
brings me back to my flexibility. The reason for this sensual
tale.
    It was during
these sad times, as June called them that I found yoga, or yoga
found me; not quite sure really. But the fact of the matter was
June was the mediator between yoga and I. It was the best thing
that happened to me and I’m glad Jason decided to turn into a small
penis coward and leave me a very yellow post –it note. His exit is
the very reason I’m bubbly on the inside and always wet on the
outside. The gods must have been looking down on me and pushing me
to experience this very wonderful thing I hardly knew existed.
    When I first
walked into the yoga class I wasn’t very