LIVING YOGICALLY: Happy Endings
I am back from vacation and have no idea what story I should share first. So naturally, I will start from the ending.
Yoga teaches us how to embrace endings the same way we embrace beginnings. Hands down, the best part of my yoga practice is the savasana at the end. I have also extended this attitude to every yoga pose I do and/or teach. I always encourage the last breath to be the deepest. I always show as much, or sometimes even more, enthusiasm at the end of every pose. I just realized that, without knowing it, I have carried this philosophy off my mat.
There is no doubt that my trip to Spain ended with a big bang -a big, crazy bang. The story that ends this trip is so unbelievable I cannot even write about it until the police and doctors understand what happened. Come on people, save your doubt, I would never lie to any of you. So just believe me when I say it is crazy. In the meantime, I can share my runner-ups for best trip endings. Here are my top 3 picks…
1) THE TIME MY BROTHER SAT BESIDE THE IRON SHIEK ON HIS WAY HOME FROM A BUSINESS TRIP
Need I say more? AMAZING!
2) THE TIME I GOT A BREAST EXAM BY THE SECURITY GUARD
Let’s just say I didn’t have boobs in high school. So when my friends and I went to Montreal, I made sure to pack my fake boob cutlets. For those of you who have never worn these marvelous inventions, or felt up a girl wearing them, please refer to the picture below.
Okay where was I? Yes going through security before boarding the plane home and the guard checks my bags only to discover two gelatin objects that look like boobs. I could tell by the confused look on his face that he obviously never wore these life-like boobies before, nor did any girls he had felt up in the past. After the security guard realized what he held in his hands, he turned a vibrant shade of red, threw them back into my bag and hurried me through the line. I was mortified. I hope he likes telling this story as much as I do.
3) THE TIME I WAS IN THE SINGAPORE AIRPORT PRISON
I have a complicated last name which gets misspelled all the time. The incorrect spelling has gotten me out of many telemarketing calls. When telemarketers ask for a Mrs. Jakitamikoko I can honestly say I am not her and politely hang up the phone. However, my nightmare of a last name has also gotten me into a lot of trouble. The one that really sticks out is the time I got trapped in a Singapore airport for 48 hours.
I was about to catch my connecting flight home from Australia when I handed the man my ticket. The ticket read, “Ms. Natalie Jakmyshyn” one Y short of Jakymyshyn. I was not allowed on the flight, instead he directed me to a room where I was joined by 100s of other people who had to go through the same interrogation process. The process took a long time, I missed my flight and was forced to wait around for the next available flight home.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have it any other way. The craziness that surrounds the ending of my amazing trip needed to happen, for the safety of all members involved. I am also grateful that I was trapped in the Singapore airport because it made me appreciate home just a little bit more. I am glad that the security guard discovered my boob cutlets- before a potential boyfriend did. If these embarrassing, stressful situations did not happen, my life would be boring and I would have no stories to tell. Bring on the crazy! I am ready to jump at it from the top ropes, just like my brother’s new best friend the Iron Shiek.
After every ending, there is a new beginning.
Peace, peace, peace
NAT