I went to the yoga class today in Palo Alto with my sweet mother in law.
May God bless her for she is a hero in my eyes. She was fasting too of course , being the religious person that she is. Today is the first day of Ramadan, and I woke up at twelve p.m.
However she woke up at nine cooked us a soup that filled the house with a delicious smell.
and as I got the energy to get out of bed she was already buying groceries. When she came back I got up to kiss her and of course I blacked out from standing up too fast. I told her if she would like to join me in the yoga class today. She agreed and we said we will go to the four p.m. class, as i got lost in lala land between messaging my family and staring at a tree in the garden, it was already time for class. She was ready and I was still in my p.js so I feel horrible for forgetting and I run up the stairs to get dressed. We make it on time both of us on our bikes. But on our way i found the road too long and my peddling was getting hectic. We park our bikes and go in the class. It is a different instructor yet it is the same studio that I love. It was kind of shocking to see a yoga teacher who is not in shape. Yet it was inspiring in many ways, the teacher was chubby and in no way the image of a yoga teacher. I wondered if it mattered how big you were in ordered to be good at yoga. It was another way to demonstrate how accepting the yoga culture is how understanding the standards are in Palo Alto. She was very flexible and she could do all the poses perfectly. I wondered if the extra fats helped her, since i have found it amazing that the slightly chubby students in all the yoga classes were extremely flexible. She started the class with telling us to sit in a very comfy pose where sand pillows supported us and a blanket hugged our feet. It was perfect, exactly what I needed. She had arabic music on with oud and drums and arabian moans and calls that I could not figure out but I was sure it was Arabic. from that pose she asked us to do more complicated tiring poses, from down ward dog to bending and having one leg of the floor to more. All poses that I could easily do before. However on this day I was a zombie, I could not go through with it. The fast change of poses and the heaviness of my body, were making it impossible. I retreated to my second favorite position which was the child's pose which is very familiar to the muslim prayer pose: the sagda!
I peeped to look at the rest of the class everyone else was doing fine, I figured of course they all had breakfast! And I turned to peek at my mother in law whom I thought would be as tired as I am since she is fasting too and she had been up earlier than me doing a million other things, to my surprise she was just fine God Bless her and give her all the strength.
Fasting was not the problem, I started getting flashbacks of my fasting days of school and how I used to walk slower than all my friends and sleep on the desk of last period. I was the only one who was drained. I also recalled my days as I worked with my father in his office during the holy month and I can remember how all the employees were walking, talking and working just like they do with breakfast. I was the only one almost fainting on the stairway taking it really slow. I remembered how I blacked out every time I got up.
It was clear to me that something was wrong with me. As we left the class early because my mother in law figured I was not doing well, I told her I think she is a hero for enduring it and having the energy I looked for wood to touch. She told me that I was too young and that with years I will have stamina. I wondered if being young made you stronger or weaker?
I wondered why was I always a zombie during the fast, unlike many of the people around me, older and younger.
I do not smoke and I do not drink , why am I so tired?
I do drink coffee though, could all of this be the coffee factor?
I started to embrace the zombie that I am and be thankful for my will to fast even if it is not easy for me.
Some people are just born weaker than others, some people can go through the day with out food or drink and be fine and some have to lay down. I am what I am and thank God for that.
I feel empty and light and it is like I am in a different state of consciousness, being so tired and hungry it is similar to getting high, you can not focus, you can not get things done, and for me I start laughing on things that were not so funny before the fast. You will also find me talking slowly and staring at nothing for long times.
The fast teaches you how vulnerable you are without the simple things you consumed in order to function. It teaches you to know the value of coffee and breakfast. It teaches you the value of an early lunch and how much fuel you get from that. May God be with the smokers and the addicts.
It makes you grateful for all the things you take for granted, the simple blessings of food and drink. The more I fast the more my love for food increases.
Without food I do walk like a zombie and that is that.
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