Day 194: The Qi Gong Show

Paris, Day 23. Why is it that every time I am on my way to some Relaxation And Inner Peace Experience, like the spa or yoga class, I turn into a total spaz? Invariably, I end up rushing in late, panting, hair frizzed out, eyes wild...while the teacher looks kind of fearful and the rest of the class just stares in silent judgment, thinking: 'We are SOOOOOOO much closer to enlightenment than you.'

Why?

And while we're on the topic of Why, let's discuss why I thought it would be a good idea to take my first-ever Qi Gong class yesterday. In Paris. IN FRENCH.

It weren't easy.

Well, no, let me restate. It was very easy. I just sat there doing nothing because I didn't know what, in fact, I was supposed to be doing. Because it was all in French. And it's not like this kind of Asian energy work is the kind that comes with diagrams, flow charts, flashcards or, in the case of this particular Qi Gong class, any movement to follow along with.

There was a series of super-simple postures, like Yoga For Dummies (but you had to memorize this series, so I guess it was Yoga For Not-So-Dummies). And I had to breathe through both my mouth and nose at the same time.

About the breathing. I'm a fully-indoctrinated Ashtanga yoga girl (Thou shalt only breathe through your nose) who moonlights as a Pilates girl (Thou shalt breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth). But SERIOUSLY, how many ways are there to frickin' BREATHE anyhow?

It was fine. At least I understood the French for 'mouth' and 'nose.' I was hooped when we got to the 'energy meridian' part of the class.

We lay on our backs. The teacher started doing a whole lot of talking. And I started to get a whole lot lost. I heard something about breathing with my hands. Or maybe breathing with my skin. Breathing with the skin of my hands? I don't know.

What I DO know is that someone started to snore very loudly.

And then I happened to look at the clock. Which said Ten Minutes Past When Melanie Should Have Been On The Metro To Meet Her Friend For 2 pm. Because I thought it was an hour class, but clearly the teacher didn't. So, while I was supposed to be breathing with my hands, I started watching the minute hand and plotting my escape.

I considered getting up as quietly as I could and slipping out. Which is when I realized I had placed myself at the furthest point from the door.

In order to get out, I would have to tip-toe over all the dead bodies on ONE side of the room to get my stuff then tip-toe over the dead bodies on the OTHER side of the room to reach the door and AH OUI, I haven't PAID for this class yet and what a forking waste of 20 Euros THIS was because I only understood maybe a quarter of it and I'm probably supposed to be breathing with my knee or my elbow or God-knows-what right now but I wouldn't know because I'm not BREATHING any more or LISTENING any more or RELAXED any more because instead I'm stuck in the corner clock-watching and LOSING MY SHIT.

I was 20 minutes late meeting my friend who was totally laid back about it. I realize now the losing of the shit was totally pointless because as soon as I figured out I was trapped like a Qi Gong rat in a Qi Gong cage, I should have CHILLED THE QI GONG OUT. Sigh.