Meet Mr. Bravesoul

Mr. Bravesoul has been stewing over taking his first yoga class for 3 months after hearing the stories of a friend trying it and really enjoying it.  The testimonials consisted of better sleep, small progressions of flexibility and strength, and stress release after a long day.  

Finally, after a particularly convincing conversation with his friend, Mr. Bravesoul has enough of the delay and decides to try a class.  The next morning, he checks the studio schedule and bets he can make the beginners class that starts in 15 minutes, so he slips into his most comfortable pants and shirt and pulls into the studio parking lot with 5 minutes to spare.  With his breath held high in his chest and expectations of  udder embarrassment, he grabs his water bottle and heads towards the front door.  Mr. Bravesoul pauses at the studio door and hopes that no one will notice that he is new, doesn't own a mat, and may (or may not) be able to touch his toes.  As the sweat develops at the nape of his neck and all the worst case scenarios pass through his thoughts, he opens the studio door with a clenched jaw, convinced this was a bad idea.

As Mr. Bravesoul crosses the threshold into the studio, he is hit with a smell of incense and Krishna Das serenading through the speakers.  The scene is quiet as a few others mill about the clothing rack and cubbies, putting away their belongings for their next class.  As Mr. Bravesoul walks up to the counter, he is greeted by a smiling, young woman with lots of tattoos and dreadlocks.  "Uh, hi.  I'd like to take the next class."  The young woman beams and asks, "Have you taken classes with us before?"  "No."  "Great!" she exclaims.  Her excitement is slightly off-putting and confusing to Mr. Bravesoul.  No one can care that much about their job or the people here.  She continues, "Let's get you set up with a waiver and a mat.  Coriander Shanti will be guiding you through your practice today.  You're going to love her!"  Mr. Bravesoul suppresses an eye roll and follows her to the cubbies and studio room door as she quickly goes over the rules.  She opens the door to the room and waves him through.

The door shuts behind Mr. Bravesoul and he doesn't see a free spot to put down his mat.  Standing awkwardly, he finds the teacher chatting with some yoga students at the back of the room and begins his ascent into the sea of leggings and witty yoga slogan shirts.  Feeling like all eyes are on him, the regret sets in and he starts to plan his escape.  As he begins to turn back towards the door, a woman with a bright smile says, "Oh, here.  Let me move my mat over so you have room.  This class is always crowded."  Thankful to find a place to settle, Mr. Bravesoul flashes a smile and thanks her as he unrolls his mat with a loud slap!, catching the attention of everyone in the room.  With all eyes now on him, regret butterflies start flooding his belly and he can feel his face flush.  "Grab some blocks, you'll need them" says his neighbor.  Mr. Bravesoul walks to the area where the props are stored and shimmies past the teacher to grab square pieces of cork.  As he turns to find the safe island of his mat, he hears Coriander Shanti coo, "Hello there.  Are you new here?"  Mr. Bravesoul turns to Coriander Shanti and states the obvious.  Without delay, she welcomes him and asks for details of any injuries or limitations along with why he has chosen this class.  He shrugs his shoulders and says, "No injuries, just never did this before and I can't touch my toes."  She chuckles and says, "Well, you are in the right place.  Find your seat and we'll get started."

Mr. Bravesoul watches as the 30 sets of eyes follow him back to his borrowed mat, with no yoga slogan on anything he is wearing, no water bottle (forgot it in the car, GAH!), and no ring on his left hand.  "Do they think I'm only here to find a date for tonight?  I mean, it crossed my mind, but I could really use some help relaxing.  Is this why guys don't go to these things!?"

Mr. Bravesoul shrugs off the looks from the regulars and sits on his mat.  "This is hard already!" he laments to himself.  "I had no idea it would be this hard to sit on the floor."  Breaking him out of his mental dialog, the teacher begins to welcome everyone to the class and offers this time to set an intention for the class.  Again, Mr. Bravesoul's inner critic comes forward to whisper in his head "What the heck does that mean?"  He decides, since he is there already, he might as well go with it; so he just follows along as best as he can.  As the movement starts and the poses  begin to flow, Mr. Bravesoul is continuously falling behind everyone because he tries to see what the teacher is doing.  She mostly walks around, so he is left to stare at the other students around him for help.  "This is so awkward and I didn't think I'd sweat this much!"

​Mr. Bravesoul keeps pushing through each pose and breathing, taking the cues from the teacher.  He only fell over once and had to stifle a fart thrice!  As the teacher instructs the students to lie down for Savasana, the final resting place, Mr. Bravesoul spreads out like a starfish and closes his eyes.  Within 1.5 minutes, he begins a light snore and only wakes when the teacher plays the bowl at the front of the class to signal it is time to get up.

Mr. Bravesoul begins to stir and rolls onto his side to sit up.  The teacher then asks everyone to join her in OMing.  "This is weird," he thinks, but goes along with it.  A low bellow OM comes out of him and since everyone else was saying it, he finishes the class with a "Namaste."

As the class ends and Mr. Bravesoul opens his eyes, he feels a sense of calm and no rush to move, almost as if he could go back to sleep.  There is a quiet stir in the room as people start packing up and he slowly starts to do the same.  He shuffles over to the teacher and thanks her for a great class and apologizes for screwing up a few times.  The teacher sweetly thanks him and assures him he is a fine fit for this class and it will only get better with practice.

​Returning the borrowed mat to the front desk, Mr. Bravesoul thanks the cheery woman behind the counter and leaves the studio at a pace fit for a turtle.  Getting in his car, he sees the water bottle he had hurriedly filled at home and then forgot in the car.  He chuckles out loud and starts his car with a big grin.  He decides right then that he'll be back.
Namaste everyone.