How I Became A Yoga Nazi

Welcome to another Blog This! challenge. This time around the challenge goes something like this:


Tell your readers a tale. About something you learned. Be it driving, scuba-diving or maybe another language... riding a bike, learning to read, learning to cook a special meal - make it interesting or funny or shocking!

When I moved to the USA to take up a year long job as a nanny ( to three gorgeous boys – M, T and H ) I’d really thrown myself in at the deep end – my first time travelling overseas, going to the opposite side of the world from all my family and friends, to live with people I’d never met before. I figured if I was completely overhauling my entire life, why not my body aswell? And so, after 7 or 8 weeks of living in the US, I became brave enough to go to my first ever yoga class.

I’d always wanted to try yoga, but I’d never been brave enough before. I’d always thought I was too fat ( I wasn’t ), too unco-ordinated ( I wasn’t ) and too embarrassed ( I wasn’t ) to give it a go. But living in a town where you know hardly anybody has its advantages – it means hardly anyone knows YOU, and that gives you a certain amount of anonymity. So I thought “ Hell, if I mess up too badly or do something too embarrassing, I just wont go back!! “ But I got there, and I stole a spot at the back of the class, and I followed along as best as I could…. And I didn’t stuff up, I didn’t do anything embarrassing, and I loved it! And I’ve loved it ever since.

My first yoga teacher, Cindy, was a tiny, blonde, whirlwind of energy but when it came to yoga she was patient and calm and encouraging. She’d come through class and if you weren’t aligned properly she’d ask if she could help you with your pose. Through this way of teaching I became pretty good at yoga ( if I do say so myself ) – and very obsessed with proper alignment. Cindy would push or prod you in the right direction and eventually I learned when my body wasn’t doing something right and corrected myself. When I came back to Australia the obsession continued and I asked my new yoga teachers to tell me when I wasn’t lined up correctly in a pose.

Now I notice when others in class aren’t aligned right in their poses. I want to walk over and push them and pull them or whisper in their ear “ Pelvis forward, shoulders up, back and down “ – but that would be rude. ( I also want to walk up and bitch-slap the women who talk and giggle to each other through the class but that would be very un-Yogi of me… ). I’ve even considered taking Yoga teacher training but that got thrown on the backburner when I fell pregnant. Its still something I’d love to do down the line though. So, if you're ever in Dub-Vegas taking a yoga class and a small brunette with glasses glares at you from the back right hand corner of the room – that’s me, the Yoga Nazi. I may want to push, pull, prod or punch you, but its only for your own good…..