Nothing to do, nowhere to be

resting with strangers

Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash

There are seven of us. Snuggled under blankets. Laying on our yoga mats in a dark room with candles and firelight flickering. Through the huge windows dark leaves flap about in the big winds blowing through the orchard next to us. The iron roof creaks. Inside it is warm. A lovely young woman walks slowly around the room tucking blankets around our feet and shoulders so we are extra cosy.

“Nothing to do, nowhere to be” she says quietly.

I am at a Restorative Yoga class. It’s less about pushing our bodies into shapes and flexing, more about sinking into the gravity of the earth and settling our nervous systems. It’s permission to rest and restore. We could all do this ourselves at home, but none of us do.

Attendees are a mixed bunch. A few of us are very-regulars and others semi-regulars. A couple of men come every now and then. They make more noise than the women, They audibly huff and sigh and sometimes snore as the relaxation takes over and they settle into childlike sleep.

Mainly it’s women. You can tell the ones with family responsibilities, they dash in, giving off energy. Throwing their jackets and layers off as they arrive, jiggling keys and phones and glasses. They want to talk, they want to tell us how great it is that they are here, so they greet us all enthusiastically.

“ I am so glad I got here…I haven't made it in weeks”

“Phew, just in time, the twins would not do a thing I asked today. I am so happy to have left them at home”

“ I left a pot of soup on the stove, I hope Jim checks it while I am here…I have six to feed tonight”.

They take a while to settle. They position bolsters, blankets, limbs and then reposition them. Finally, a sigh….then stillness.

We begin.

I no longer have urgent family or other responsibilities. My time is mostly my own and yet I appreciate the handing over of it to someone else. “I’ll mind the time” our teacher says. I remember back to my busiest days with young children and work and can only imagine how nourishing a class like this would have been. Not that I would have found, or made the time for it.

“ I invite you to accept care and to receive tonight” says our teacher.

“If you need a blanket or anything else, let me fetch it for you” she says. In that moment 5 women audibly exhale a breath. I can practically hear their faces soften and their bodies melt like warm honey. I know mine does.

They stretch and relax deeper into rest.

Later, when class has ended, a couple of women say thank you to our teacher and remark that they can’t recall the last time someone offered to “fetch” anything for them, or in fact to care for them at all, in any way. We start to fold up our blankets and gather up our bolsters and other props but our teacher urges us to let her do it and passes round cups of tea. Someone quips “ Can’t I just stay here? I don’t want to go home”.

But we all leave. We head out into the dark cold night with looser shoulders and necks, we all look up at the stars and wave one another goodbye with big smiles and a sense of being looked after. It feels good.