The great summer getaway

Got this from the mail.

Mandala Spa is one of my favorite spas in the country. Its spa treatments are still unparalleled. The villas are so luxurious and even the in-house cuisine, although vegetarian, is so delicious! Mmm...those cardamon muffins are just the best!

(For inquiries, pls. call tel. no. (+63 36) 288.5858 or email: reservations@mandalaspa.com. Click here for more details.)

This is very strange

Four days after the fatwa went out, students continued to fill the classrooms of Jakarta's Jakartadoyoga Studio. On Jan. 28, the influential Indonesian Ulemas Council issued a religious edict forbidding all Indonesian Muslims to practice yoga that incorporates pre-Hindu religious rituals such as meditation and chanting. And while students at the yoga studio admitted they had heard about the proclamation, which allows yoga only for the purpose of exercise or sport, they say it won't deter them from attending classes in the popular Indian practice. "Issuing a fatwa is not the way to settle a controversy — if there really is one," says Sita Resmi, a yoga student and observant Muslim. "If something endangers the public, then I understand, but this doesn't, so it doesn't make much sense to me." (Read Indonesia's Fatwa Against Yoga in TIME magazine.)

A few years back, I attended a yoga retreat at Mandala Spa in Boracay. One of my classmates asked our instructor, Mo-ching Yip, if she could sit out the chanting class because she's a born-again Christian, and thus, recognized only one Supreme Being or God. Many of the chants used in yoga practice do mention several gods or goddesses. So what Mo-ching did was to teach us chants w/c were non-denominational, and spoke of one Earth, the divine light in us and in everyone, and peace.

Personally, I have never felt less Catholic when I was still chanting and meditating. I found chanting very comforting and uplifting. I think I'll take it up again.

OM Shanti.

Peace through the Global Mala Project

I am a serious yoga....backslider (hehe). I try to practice at least twice a week, but you know how it is, the work just keeps piling up. And I miss my teachers like Liz Dyogi, Mo-ching Yip, Prakash Bisht...who either have classes that are too early for my consciousness (like Liz), or far away (as in the case of Mo), or who have moved, like Prakash.

These days, the yoga class I usually attend because it's schedule-friendly for me is a 1 PM Friday gentle flow yoga class at a gym nearby. The teacher is okay; it's just that the class can be annoying because some members just can't remember to switch off their cellphones...hay. So if you can imagine relaxing in your savasana (corpse pose, lying on your back) and winding down after an hour's challenging poses, then a cellphone rings, breaking your peace and meditative state! Waaah! But I think I'm better now at doing a chaturanga (it's like a men's push-up) than a year ago...so I suppose the once-a-week class works kahit paano.


Anyway, I got this interesting announcement from the mail. Sounds cool. I think I may join it.

According to the project web site, "the purpose of the Global Mala is to unite the global yoga community from every continent, school or approach to form a 'mala around the earth' through collective practices based upon the sacred cycle of 108 on Sept. 21st and 22nd, Fall Equinox as the yoga world's offering to further the UN International Peace Day." A "mala" is sacred prayer beads used in India and Tibet as "meditative guides."

One of the featured yoga instructors on Saturday is Linda Naulty (see schedule below) whom I met in Boracay before. We were classmates at Mandala Spa's three-day yoga retreat w/c Mo-ching taught. Of course Linda was so many lifetimes ahead of the rest of us losers in that class hehe. But what is interesting also about Linda is she does reiki healing, and I had a very short test session w/ her then. But I swear it got rid of a lot of negative vibes I had about certain people.

Anyhoo, to know more about the Global Mala Project, click here

GLOBAL MALA PROJECT
SATURDAY/ SEPT 20, 2008
9AM-9PM
@ PULSE YOGA MAKATI
2289 UPRC III Building, Pasong Tamo Ext., Makati (next to chrysler showroom, follow the driveway to the back of the building) tel: 0917-84-PULSE (78573) ---please RSVP to reserve space.

SUGGESTED DONATION FEE: PHP 1,000 ( whole day admission)

Day Flow:

9:00am Opening Ceremony/ Welcome greetings

9:30am-10:30am 108 Rounds of Gayatri Mantra

10:00am-12:00nn 108 Rounds of Namaskars

12-1 pm L U N C H

*there will be simultaneous sessions going on all afternoon

1:15pm-2:00pm Lecture: Beyond the Seven Chakras with Jeannie Javelosa (Yoga Manila)

2:00pm-3:30pm Drumming Workshop with Inky de Dios (Bateria Brigada)

2:30pm-3:30pm Gentle Yoga with Linda Naulty (Yoga Manila)

3:30pm-4:30pm Inner dance workshop with Lisette (Inner Dance Manila)

4:00pm-5:00pm Intro to Ashtanga with Tessa Celdran (Pulse Yoga)

4:30pm- 5:30pm Bikram Yoga with Pye Trinidad

5:00pm-6:00pm Kirtan with Punnu & Sing India ( Punnu, CJ Vasu & Babaji)

6pm-7pm D I N N E R

7:30PM-8:30pm Yoga Trance Dance with Teresa Herrera

8:30pm-9:00pm CLOSING CEREMONY

Namaste.

Yes to love (and life!)

LOVE IN THE TIME OF WELLNESS. Tom and Karen Neff found love while learning to love their individual selves.(Photos courtesy Karen Neff)

"NEVER again.”

That’s what Karen Neff (neé Villarica) thought of marriage after separating from her husband Antonio Reina in 1999. She and Antonio ran a successful costume-jewelry business out of Cebu, the biggest exporter of its kind in the country. Back then, her normal life consisted of meeting with suppliers, running after letters of credit and bankers, and dealing with the deadlines of their buyers. “During the 17 years of marriage, my life was work, husband and children—in that order,” Karen begins her narration.

It got to a point that she no longer felt satisfied with what she was doing, either in work or in her marriage. And despite her three wonderful kids with Antonio — Mozart, now 24; Andrea, 22; and Mara, 20 — Karen felt it was time for her to leave that life. She could no longer deal with the stress of the work, adding that she just felt sapped after “giving” her time and attention to everybody...except herself. “There was something missing in my life that I could not put my finger on. My heart was no longer in the marriage. I did not find any fulfillment in staying together. The marriage was no longer relevant—and I opted to live separately.”

It may sound trite, but Karen did a bit of soul-searching, and went to Harbin Hot Springs, a popular wellness center in Lake County in Northern California. She enrolled in all of the spa’s classes in a bid to free herself from the issues that had been plaguing her. “It was a difficult period,” she says of the time after her separation from her husband. “Emotions were fragile, and doubts whether I did the right thing would come up ever so often.”

The product of those intensive classes, and more wellness training around Asia, was the establishment of Mandala Spa in Boracay. It was there where I first met Karen in November 2001, just when she first opened the spa, the very first of its kind in the country. “I have lived a privileged life...it was time to give back and make a difference, so I built a spa.”

Despite the rather exciting opportunities of meeting new people as she ran her spa, Karen still kept very much to herself, which one might regard as not exactly the path to pursue if one wanted to find love again. After all, while she banged shut her doors on marriage, Karen wasn’t exactly locking those doors and throwing away the key to meeting a significant other. “I am not a social person and going out to bars and restos was not my thing. While I did want to have someone to share my life with, I guess it was not high on the priority list as I did nothing about it. I continued to stay home and contemplate about life.” She says many people would probably find her life rather “boring.”

So it was with great joy when sometime in 2006, while visiting the spa for my usual Shodhana Karma treatment, I found out that Karen had gotten married. She wasn’t in the country at the time, but I looked forward to getting together with her again so I could ask her to spill all the lurid (!) details of her romance with Tom Neff. She later tells me that Tom had been an insurance broker for years before getting on a wellness kick, which he has been in for about 15 years now.

She met Tom in the US in September 2004 — he was a student, while she was an assistant instructor in a Watsu class. (To the unitiated, Watsu is a treatment based on Zen shiatsu, so it’s basically a massage, only done in water. I recommend it as a way to relax or purge oneself of negative vibes.) Karen says Tom just asked her if he could join her for breakfast one day, and so they chatted a lot “and found we had things in common—been there, done that, etc.” He also was married for 22 years and has four children from that marriage—three girls and one boy with ages ranging from 16 to 24.

Initially, it was a relationship carried over Skype, no less. Karen and Tom would spend hours (“at one point, eight hours nonstop”) talking about anything and everything. It was obvious there was a connection, but at the time they were not yet lovers. Moreover, Tom appeared to have been having second thoughts about pursuing her. After agreeing to visit Karen for Christmas 2004, he backed out and told her he wasn’t ready for a long-distance relationship.

But in April 2005, Tom e-mailed Karen telling her that he couldn’t get her off his mind. So Karen told him she was going to the US that June and if he wanted, they could meet. “We did, and fell in love. In October he came to visit for two weeks. I went over for Christmas and stayed for three weeks.” In between visits, they were always connected via the Internet (thank you, Al Gore, woohoo!).

In February 2006 Karen says she surprised Tom by flying out to the US to celebrate Valentine’s Day with him. Then in May, he went to Boracay for another visit. “During a stormy night,” Karen recalls, “he asked me, ‘What is your heart’s deepest desire?’ It didn’t take me long to think and said, ‘For us to be married.’ Was that a proposal???” “I then heard him say, ‘Yes.’ ‘Yes what?’ I asked. ‘Yes, let’s get married.’ Hahaha! I had to think about that!”

So with that, the couple flew to Cebu a week later to tell Karen’s kids the news. “Mara was delighted. The two boys were worried that I would forget that I had kids. But they all love Tom and, seeing how happy we are together, have come to love him, too.”

D-Day came on July 20, 2006. Karen in a teal blue dress with spaghetti straps and intricate embroidery, Tom in a gray tuxedo with an ivory vest and tie over a white shirt, and with about 40 close friends and family around them, they were married in Lake Tahoe by a minister-friend in ceremonies that they themselves scripted. “There were no vows of ‘forever and forever, ’til death do us part,’” she stresses.

In describing their relationship, Karen says it is one based on personal responsibility. “I am responsible for my feelings and emotions, and there is nothing that Tom has to do about them. Likewise, he is responsible for his. We find that because we have no expectations of each other, there is nothing to argue about. I do not need him and neither does he need me. We enjoy being together as our lives are enriched by the union. And neither do we have any expectations about how long our relationship will last—we live each day fully. From the first day that we met, we have not had a moment of discord. It’s been very blissful!”

Karen believes that you cannot find love; it finds you. It is something I, too, believe in, because I’ve been lucky enough to find it a few times, and lost it along the way, but never, ever with regret in my heart. And I know, God willing, if the time is right and it’s meant to be, I will find it again.

“Experience tells me that there is nothing to do [when trying to find love again]. Instead, be—be who you are, live your truth, speak your truth. Do not pretend to be someone who you’re not. Love yourself with all your strengths and weaknesses. Be genuine.”

She says love is out there, waiting for everyone. “One only has to say, ‘Yes!’” It is saying yes to life and for what is in store for you. Be adventurous! Love life! Don’t hang on to what is not working—be available for change!”

Speaking of change, Tom has sold his business and all his assets in the US and has moved to Boracay permanently to be with Karen. “Our plan is to spend the summers in the US to be with the kids,” she adds. From May 1 to 4, Karen and Tom will not only be sharing their love but their wellness work with others. They are conducting a “Living Yoga” retreat in Mandala Spa, Boracay, where participants will be encouraged to break through self-limiting and self-immobilizing thoughts and behaviors through yoga practice.

***For particulars, contact (036) 288 5858 or visit Mandala Spa

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror.)

Holidays take over

THE holidays have taken over my life, thus, the relative slacking in my blogging these past couple of weeks.

There was much last-minute shopping to be done, wrapping of gifts, and I had to help coordinate the food, refreshments, and gifts for our gang's Christmas party this Saturday. In between all that, I still had to write my stories for the different publications I work for, squeeze in an appointment with my dermatologist, as well as a checkup with my doctor.

Well the good news is...I'm done. As in I've officially completed my shopping and all those nice people on my Christmas list will have gifts this year. Their presents are all wrapped, the bows have been tied, and gift tags inscribed with my most heartfelt dedications. I intend to send out all of these gifts (except those of my family) by next week. So get ready kiddies!

With regard to my checkup...TADAAAH! my blood sugar is normal. Yay!

Because diabetes runs in my family, I've had to monitor my glucose level at least once or twice a year just to make sure I don't go the way of my elders who have become insulin-dependent. Thank God I'm not really a lover of sweets (except for certain times of the month, ehem), and aside from pigging out on Cyma's Skolatina for the last couple of weeks, I've really stayed away from the sugary stuff. I suppose it helps that I've been using Splenda for the last couple of years in my coffee, tea, even in my champorado.

(The worst really is taking the fasting blood sugar test. You can't eat nor drink water for nine hours before the test. And I drink water a lot...right before going to bed, when I wake up to go to the bathroom, and upon waking up in the morning. So it was extreme torture not to have some midnight snack or a drink of water before bedtime. The next day, I had to bring a big bottle of water with me to the testing clinic, and as soon as I gave my blood — this was at 8:30 am — drank like I had just traveled through the Sahara desert! I felt that parched. Ugh. Also hungry. Thank God there was a Pancake House nearby where my mom and I could eat our breakfast. I had the Salisbury steak and garlic rice. Not a great combination actually. I had to order the potato salad instead. Yum.)

Aside from my normal blood sugar level, my cholesterol levels are all in check, even my triglycerides, uric acid, and creatinine levels are within the reference values, so the doctor gave me a clean bill of health. Well, almost. I had my blood pressure checked and it was 130/90, slightly elevated (my normal BP is 110/80). So he told me to exercise. Hay!

Well, I must confess, I've been remiss in my yoga practice these past two weeks (due to the weekend bazaar shopping sprees), so I'm not surprised my BP has risen. Then again, my mom was with me at the doctor's so that could also be the reason for my higher BP hehe.

Anyhoo, I'm really thankful for my good health (and my mom's too). I think this is the best Christmas present anyone can receive.

More histrionics and drug-crazed musings

Something Like Life
June 29, 2007

INFLUENZA sucks.

I say this with the little strength I can still muster while I lie in my bed, half-upright, half-comatose, tapping on my notebook. No energy. No exclamation point.

My bones are all achy and creaky, while my breath is ragged and shallow, in between the hymen-breaking coughs that spare me no mercy throughout the day. My nose constantly drips, even as my sinuses are congested. I try to seek relief in sleep, but then I wake up tired and sluggish as if I’ve downed a whole bottle of Rivotril.

So too bad for you, dear readers, there will be no advice to the lovelorn nor intimations of other people’s slutty behavior. I shall bore you instead with ague-laden details of the past three days (I write this on a Tuesday evening) as I lie feverish and pained on my 100-percent jersey cotton bedsheet (yes, the kind that’s used for T-shirts and just what Oprah likes), surrounded by my fluffy pillows which, sadly, now hardly provides me any comfort. And as every sixth hour of my illness is marked by a round of paracetamol (1,000 mg), carbocisteine (500 mg) and antibiotics (625 mg), you can bet that this piece will be chock full of histrionics and drug-crazed musings.

I don’t remember the last time I had been downed by the flu. I’ve been pretty lucky. I hardly get sick despite my lack of exercise and a mostly unhealthy diet. I make up for that by eating lots of veggies now and then, and having seafood every chance I can, walking a distance, and downing loads of vitamins and minerals. Then, as you recall, I did go back to the gym. Which is pretty ironic. Now that I’ve decided on taking the path to a healthier lifestyle, I get the flu! A friend of mine thinks I could have picked up the virus in the shower. Ick! Remind me next time to take a bath at home after my workout.

The illness just crept on me, not giving me any fair warning at all. One day I was up and about doing my yoga poses at the gym, the next day my muscles were sore to the bone, my body wracked with the chills, a cough and the stuffy nose. Of course, in between all that, I had chomped down a whole bagful of cheese-flavored popcorn. And as is the usual, my throat got all scratchy the next day despite the glasses of water I guzzled in between the fistfuls I shoved in my mouth.

Normally, the scratchy throat goes away after I gargle with warm water and salt, and suck on two or three zinc lozenges for a day. This time, it didn’t. I started sneezing like mad, one, two, three blasts in succession. Then my scratchy throat gave way to full-blown hacking. Soon thereafter, my bones were groaning like an old lady’s and the chills started.

It’s driving me mad. I go under the covers for a few hours, trying to seek protection from the cold permeating through my entire anatomy. Then the next minute, I am sweating. I switch on the air conditioner to give me some relief from the mugginess that's making the dogs outside my window pant their poor little tongues out, but also because of the heat that running the course through my poor defenseless remains. Then I get the chills again. What’s worse is that my mouth is always dry, and my taste buds have given up the ghost. Despite the hunger pangs, it’s pure and simple torture not being able to taste any of the food I eat. So I quit after a few spoonfuls. I have no joy.

The last time I got this sick, I was bored out of my wits watching afternoon soaps and endless repetitions of HBO and Star Movies. My saving grace this time around is my torrent downloads of Little Britain, Entourage and Ugly Betty. (Yup, that’s Betty La Fea to you, telenovela fans of yore.) And, of course, I had just finished the much-talked about, endlessly debated finale of The Sopranos. Was Tony whacked or not? (I think he was; after all, that’s how mob bosses are supposed to go. And for someone who has suffered a whiny wife like Carmela, death would surely be a welcome release.)

If not watching my torrents, I am catching up on my reading. Not books, unfortunately, because I can hardly keep my eyes open while I’m shot up with all these drugs, but Vanity Fair. If there is any magazine that you must subscribe to in your entire life, it has to be VF. It has a bit of everything. Heavy investigative pieces of criminal or political activity (yes, crime and politics now seem to be synonymous with each other), lavish spreads of gorgeous celebrities with in-depth interviews, and lots of amusing sections and sidebars along with gorgeous photography.

(VF cover of US President George Bush and Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa. Why couldn't I have gotten the George Clooney cover?!)

But here is a spoiler alert: get your copy of the July issue. It’s all about Africa and is guest-edited by Bono, who says he had always wanted to become a journalist. Now how cool is that? I just hope you have more luck than me getting a better cover. (VF shot 20 separate covers for this issue—Oprah Winfrey, Don Cheadle, Madonna, Barack Obama, Iman, Bono, of course, among others—with celebrated portrait photographer Annie Leibovitz at the helm.) I got George Bush, yes, a first on the cover of a usually anti-administration publication, with a prayerful Archbishop Desmond Tutu. You can guess who he’s praying for. (They have Condi Rice, too. Wipe that smirk off your face. You must understand, this is how Bono gets his philantrophic work done. He sucks up to the right people in power. I love Bono but he is human just like the rest of us.) All I can say is, I would have been happier with the George Clooney cover in my hand.

Okay, I’m off rambling more than usual. I just hope I get well by the weekend. My back is killing me from all this lying down. And I’m afraid my hard drive will give out from all this downloading. I’m also running out of VF issues to read. Mother! I need my drugs!

****

MY deepest condolences to the family of the late Renato Faustino, “Mang Ato” to all of us reporters who had covered the agriculture beat. Mang Ato was an old-time government publicist who endeared himself to the journalists who made it their business to investigate every piece of BS coming out of the mouths of his often lofty-minded bosses. (True, there have been one or two exceptional heads at the Department of Agriculture, the present dispensation not one of them, though.)

Mang Ato just did his job, disseminating information to the reporters, getting officials to explain themselves out of the messes they got themselves in, ringing up editors to ask for some support to the agency programs. Even when his beloved DA was dragged in the mud a few times in the last few years, Mang Ato never cast aspersions on the motives of the reporters or the columnists for the negative stuff. He knew they were just doing their job as well.

The last time I saw Mang Ato was last year, at a friend’s wedding. We had joked that he became teary-eyed because our friend was getting married for the second time. I imagine the buckets he would have wept if I had been the one who got hitched! But that was how Mang Ato was. He was always a softie, and I have never once heard him utter a harsh word about anyone or anything, even if he was the one put at a disadvantage. He was truly a friend we could always go back to for a few laughs as we reminisced about the good times at the DA.

Thanks, Mang Ato, for being the kind of person many of us can only hope to be.

(My column, Something Like Life, is published every Friday in the Life section of the BusinessMirror. Photo from BusinessMirror – nope, that's not my bed!)

Some kind of fitness story

Something Like Life
June 8, 2007



A NUMBER of my friends texted their congratulations.

Some, curiously, asked, “Ano’ng nakain mo?” which I don’t think has a proper translation in English. (The closest I can think of is “What’s up with you?” but in the tone that meant, “What the hell were you thinking?!”)

Anyway, what my friends were referring to was my sudden decision to enroll in a gym. Okay, don’t laugh. Yeah, yeah, it was a sperm of the moment decision, as I like to say. But bear with me as I try to entertain you with tortuous details of this life-changing moment.

When I went to the mall near my home, I had all the intention of purchasing a spare cell phone to replace my battered one, which has missing keys, and already unreplaceable as it is a Siemens phone. (An aside: I don’t know why Siemens gave up on the Philippines. Its cell phones were, quite honestly, pretty good workhorses, easy to operate, with designs that were actually ahead of their time. Very stylish. The company just lacked the right marketing strategy to sell its units to keep up with the competition. So Siemens has pulled out its service centers from the malls and now I can’t replace the keys on my S57. I am told that I will have to go all the way to Siemens’ head office in Mandaluyong or thereabouts just to have my phone repaired. Tama ba ’yon?)

Not finding the cell phone I had saved up for, and still having enough time on my hands before the hordes of people swarmed the building, I checked out the health and fitness floor of the mall. First, I went to a popular medical clinic to find out what its membership fees were, because I was due for an executive checkup; then, somehow, my pretty feet just brought me next door to the fitness center.

I’ve been to that gym before with Mrs. M, as she was a member, and I was aghast that there were so many people working out almost side by side. It was like walking around the mall on a weekend in the afternoon, and all you do is bump into other people. Which I absolutely detest.

But I was just curious, and inquired how much I would have to pay to be a member of this popular fitness center. Having gone freelance as a writer, I no longer have an excuse not to exercise. My days are flexible enough to have a fitness schedule and if I was serious enough, I could plan the rest of my activities around my gym time. I’m not really exercise-phobic. In fact, I loved doing yoga, and attended classes fairly regularly to strengthen my back which had given me problems in the past. But when I moved to Quezon City, I couldn’t find an instructor in my area that would teach in the afternoons, a schedule which I had become accustomed to, being a late riser.

Anyway, I was surprised at the rate that was offered to me to enroll in that gym, which cost just a tad over the amount of the cell phone I had been angling to purchase. The monthly dues are somewhat expensive but I was told I would be able to use any of the gym’s branches nationwide and even internationally. I was also told that from about 10 am to 4 pm, the gym would be virtually empty since everyone is supposed to be at work. So that solves my claustrophobia. Well, as you may have already concluded, I got sold on the idea, turned over my credit card for swiping, and committed myself to a year’s worth of fitness.

I would like to say that I enrolled in the gym mainly out of concern for my health. True, I’ve been feeling the tightness in my jeans’ waistband the last couple of weeks, and find myself out of breath sometimes when I walk short distances. My family has a history of hypertension and diabetes and I am probably at risk of inheriting these, so it’s as good a time as any to get back to exercising. Coupled with this is my being a foodie. I love to eat. And I know going to the gym would allow me to keep my weight down even as I continue to indulge my, ahem, healthy appetite.

Then again, as my Mader F surmised, there was a deeper reason for my going to the gym. Or maybe, a shallower one. It had to be a man. Guilty! Let’s just say, one night I suddenly realized I was absolutely attracted to him and, quite strangely, wanted to drown myself in his steady gaze. Ick! Ma-drama na ba?

Going to the gym is probably admitting to myself that I feel powerless under his sway and just want to look my absolutely fabulous best the moment I give up control. So there’s my fitness motivation, and maybe it’s wrong, but what the heck! It got me back to the gym, so it’s as good a reason as any. The women libbers out there can throw all their rotten tomatoes at me but I don’t care. I’m just a grrrl, noh?

Anyway, I hauled this tired but sexy body of mine to the gym for the first time in decades and found the experience quite exhilarating! Not wanting to unduly exert myself, I attended the yoga class for starters. After more than a year of not having any regular yoga practice, naturally I felt stiff all over. I couldn’t hold some of the asanas (poses) as easily as I did before, although I still remembered how to breathe correctly, so I didn’t end up panting and wheezing like the rest of my classmates. Mo-ching, my teacher at Mandala Spa, would have been proud as well of my downward facing dog. And toward the end of the class, I still managed to do my shoulder stand and easily dropped my legs at the back of my head while the upper portion of my body lay supine on the yoga mat. Aba, flexible pa din ang lola n’yo!

But, man, how I sweated buckets! For those who think yoga is easy and just for wimps, you have it all wrong. The asanas are very difficult, especially if you’re just starting out. Despite an air-conditioned room, you will perspire, and your muscles will feel like they’re being torn apart. Talk about feeling the burn. But unlike sports or other fitness exercises, there is no competition with others, only with yourself. You challenge yourself to perfect the pose at each practice, and with every effort, your mind is conditioned to focus on your breathing, your practice and your space.

After the class ended, I felt rejuvenated. I really missed my regular yoga practice. It was what my body and mind had been craving for all this time. Sure, my muscles are aching all over right now, but I look forward to going back to the gym again and perhaps trying out the fitness machines next time.

I’m not going to give out any lengthy sermons on the importance of health, the proper diet and exercise. Or how our relationship to our body should be sacred and should be of utmost priority. I’m pretty sure you will find your own motivation to exercise soon enough. And if it’s a man who gets you running to the gym, then embrace it. Perhaps soon, he might just be embracing you.

(My column, Something Like Life, appears every Friday in the Lifestyle section of the BusinessMirror. Photo from Maconstate University web site.)