Trust

Despite my early morning jog being called off last minute, I still had a full Saturday planned out. It was really a mishmash of stuff that got thrown into a 24-hour period, so I really wasn’t sure how it could all get sewn together into a sensible story.

But I can always try. Bear with me.

I needed to convince myself to do another morning run. I had all the excuses. I was lazy, I was sore, I’d be tired so early, I wanted to save energy for yoga, etcetera, etcetera. But fine, I’ll do it. Up at 4:30 am Saturday, I awoke to a text from running buddy calling the run off. I was neither happy, nor bummed. Deadma lang. So I had breakfast, and back to bed I went. Thus, I worked in 9 hours of sleep. Ah loved et!

Next on the menu was family bonding. Needed to go to the grocery with mom and run some errands. No biggie, nothing unusual. Was back home within just an hour. Had lunch, and had a few minutes of food coma, and then needed to get back on my feet and prepare to leave again. It was yoga time.

I couldn’t miss yoga. I had a Yoga for Life virgin coming in to join us. Plus Basyang already got in the way of our Wednesday yoga, and I was already craving for it. So off I went, bussing to Makati in the noon traffic and heat. I got there half an hour early, but just a few minutes after my guest, so it was perfect.

It was again a tight group, all familiar faces. It started out with the usual. Maybe what was most unusual was that it was a noticeably light, less strenuous and lower impact yoga session. But then two words threw my complacency into the air. Two words simple enough on their own, but when put together made my jaw drop. Head... Stand... Headstand.

Headstand?! Oh my gosh… We were going to do a headstand today?! I’ve never done a headstand before. I don’t even think they teach that in Kamasutra! I’ll be honest, I was scared. But we were assured that we were to be guided and assisted one at a time. But still... gulp.

So one by one, starting with the most yoga-experienced, our yogi got us into headstands. I was getting more nervous as my turn approached. Four others did it before me, and did it successfully at that. So I had the chance to be the pooper… but I felt dared and challenged. Fine. Let’s do this.

Propped on my hands and elbows, ass up in the air and seeing the rest of the room upside down, I was given three counts to boost my feet off the floor and up onto the wall. One… two… three… and caution was thrown into the air. Next thing I felt was our yogi catching and assisting my legs till they were straight on the wall. I did it! I did it! I would’ve given myself a round of applause if I could!

I was only there less than a minute, but already I could feel all the blood rushing to my head. I was then told to roll out of the headstand when I was ready. What?! I’m here already! I’m not budging! It would be a challenge anew to get out of the headstand. But fine, I would have gravity on my side this time, right? So down I went. It was less of an effort than getting into it, and easier than I expected.

I needed to ask myself. Did I really do it? I sat stunned for a few minutes, until someone from across the room gave me a thumbs-up, asking if I was okay. I smiled back and nodded. I did it. I really did it. Next thing I knew, I was picturing my room in my head, thinking against which wall I could do headstands. Whoa! And I wanted to do more of it?! Hahaha!

That was a yoga session to be remembered. And that headstand was worth more than the minute I was in it. It was empowering. It was liberating. I cannot thank our yogi enough.

It was almost 4pm when I left Makati. Where to? Another date. Same guy I was with at the movies last weekend, so it wasn’t just any eyeball. I headed home to dump my stuff and freshen up. Within a few minutes of getting home, rain started to pour. Was I lucky to get home in time? Or have I jinxed my night out? Argh.

Really, it was raining enough to activate the laze in anyone. But I had made a promise. I promised we’d hang out at his place. It was a promise that I was set on keeping. So I just sent a text message asking for some leeway to wait for the rain to hold up slightly. He was fine with it. After a good fifteen minutes or so, I charged out. In a cab and armed with some instructions with which to direct the driver on where to go, I crossed my fingers hoping that we don’t get lost.

I was lucky enough to get a good driver, who was slightly familiar with the area and didn’t take advantage of my not knowing. I let my don’t-look-lost façade down, and we worked together to find the place. Success. At least I’ll know how to get there next time.

My date led me in, and plopped me down onto his bed. We watched TV and talked, wrapped in a blanket and each other’s arms the whole time. After four hours, I was tired, sleepy, and drugged, and said I had to go... Okay fine, rewinding, we did get a bit frisky within some of those four hours. It was not anything we both weren’t into.

So from there, we freshened up and left. We drove-thru on the way for a light midnight snack. He dropped me off where I could get a ride. I bid goodbye... without a hug or a kiss because of his stand against PDA... hahaha.

As much as I’d like to say that my trip home was uneventful, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that someone makes a pass at me and strikes up a conversation on my walk home. Argh. Small talk is hard enough for me, let alone with a stranger. Good thing he was a pretty decent guy… decent enough to say I didn’t really have to tell him my real age when I could pass for someone in his mid-20s. Hehehe. Talk about a last minute ego boost.

So, as you can see, I had another packed Saturday. It seemed like I was just all over the place, until I watched Nim’s Island on cable today. It was my first time watching it, and I enjoyed the story. Very feel good. But there was one particular line that caught my attention...

Trust is the secret to adventure.

Indeed, trust was huge for me this weekend. Trust in fate. Trust in my instinct. Trust in our yogi. Trust in my body. Trust in gravity. Trust in the weather. Trust in the understanding of others. Trust in a cab driver. Trust in unknown paths. Trust in a date. Trust in a stranger. And over all, trust in what the heavens had in store. A whole lot of trust... and not even counting the condoms I always have on hand just in case. Hehehe.

For a pretty juvenile movie, Nim’s Island hit the nail on the head. Trust is the secret to adventure. It is, at least, the secret to mine. And my adventure just happens to be this little thing I call life.