My National Lampoon's Yoga Vacation

Ah yes, my “yoga retreat”. I had visions of me stretching, beachside, into bliss while the sun sets. I would lift my spirits above the clouds to a new level. I would join a one week yoga retreat in Croatia that would change my life forever, or so I thought...

First, I had to push through the Pay Wall.

The Pay Wall

As I stared at the “Pay Now” button on the screen that would confirm my online reservation, I deliberated as I think we all do before making a four figure purchase decision. I was by no means “in” to yoga. My current yoga regimen consisted of “rarely, if ever”. This was a big step for me.

Was I ready to spend 5 hours per day for an entire week doing yoga? Wouldn’t it be easier to just hang out on a beach? Why force this challenge on myself? And finally, was I willing to spend the money? But I knew the answer even as my mouse finger quivered ever so slightly.

Finally, before the imaginary hacker who might be lurking around the cyber corner, waiting for me to pause just one moment longer so he could lift my sensitive credit card data, I clicked Pay Now. Then I waited those agonizing few seconds while the Interweb moves my digital fiat and Visa takes their 3%. And then it was “confirmed”. I was booked, or so I thought.

The Stone Wall

Strangely, the communication with my future yoga “instructor” stopped rather abruptly after my payment had been processed. I had expected the typical things one might expect after dropping more than a grand on my credit card. And I’ll admit the online payment page looked a few shades more dodgy than most I’ve seen in my years of online purchasing.

I expected a formal receipt, a detailed itinerary, the name and address of where I would be staying, and other basic details. But alas, I received none of this. All I received was a brief email that said “thank you, your space on the retreat has been reserved”. The email was from the “Founder” of my yoga retreat organizer. I relaxed and waited for the additional details that would surely be forthcoming.

But forthcoming they were not. After a few days I inquired politely via email, “please send details about the retreat when convenient, thank you”, I wrote. Days passed with no reply.

About a week later, I received a twitter sized reply indicating only the name of the city where the retreat would be held and nothing further. I replied with a simple question so as not to confuse: “Please send the address of where the event will be held so I can plan my transport and subsequent accommodations, thank you”. After several days with no reply, every bone in my body screamed “scam”.

Be Still and Stay Calm

I tried not to worry, but I followed up a few days later with a modestly scathing email to the website that had listed this particular yoga retreat. Within my detailed complaint, I asked them if they could “vouch” for the service they had listed. I promptly received a reply from the reservation site and the instructor once again, but not with any further details, only an excuse from the Founder that she had been busy instructing another retreat and had limited internet, instructing me simply: “don’t worry”.

I let the whole thing rest for more than a week with no further communication while silently considering “Plan B”. I had already flown halfway across the world, so Plan B was to fill the week doing something else, and initiate a chargeback through my credit card company in hopes of getting a refund. Yes, it crossed my mind that if I had paid with Bitcoin, my chances of a refund would have surely diminished. At the same time, I felt like I was being tested - as I have so many times in recent years - to simply trust, go with the flow, and not allow mental anguish to entire my personal biosphere under any circumstances.

Game On

Then, with only three days left until the retreat start date - and just as I began to believe the retreat was not going to happen - a more formal email finally arrived, including the mysterious address I had been waiting nearly a month to receive.

Needless to say, I was still concerned. Since the communication with my instructor was so dodgy, would the retreat equally suck? Had I signed up for some sort of National Lampoon’s Yoga Vacation?

The Goddess Emerges

My concerns were immediately dismissed upon meeting my instructor face to face on a narrow, flower-lined street on the Croatian “Island of Vitality” (Losinj) in the Adriatic Sea. Her white robes, gleaming eyes, and genuine smile were all I needed to know. She was the real deal. Ganga Devi, as she called herself, was probably in her early 60s and had more than 30 years experience teaching yoga. As I would soon learn by watching her move, she was in better shape than most athletes in their 20s. She showed me to my room in the modest 3 bedroom guest house that would be home for the next week. As I began to unpack, I became truly excited about the adventure to follow. I breathed a sigh of relief, for as far as I could tell, I had not been “scammed”.

Team Yoga

Shortly thereafter my new “roommates” showed up. As I would soon realize, my roommates would also be my teachers in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Caption: My two yoga mates, perfectly designed to test my limits (in a good way).

Liz, early 40s, was from London. Sabrina, late 20s, was from Zurich. Both were friendly, and each had different reasons for joining the retreat. I soon realized that to some degree, one doesn’t embark on a yoga retreat if “everything is awesome”. One embarks on a yoga retreat for a reason, and that reason is a form of “searching”, searching for a “better way”, a “healthier path”, or even “enlightenment”. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for, probably all of the above.

Caption: The whole gang of us including our instructor. That’s me on the far right.

What made my roommates “quirky?”

Sabrina, by her own admission, did not like “nature”. She was terrified of insects (including butterflies), didn’t really enjoy going to the beach, and wore a $700 scarf. She belonged in a five star resort, not the “rustic outdoor setting” which described the setting of our yoga retreat.

Liz, by her own admission, was “a bit lost”. As a proper Brit, Liz liked to gossip and complain and had even worked for a London tabloid choosing the most controversial celebrity pictures.

Between the two of them, there was a lot of complaining - and many of those complaints were valid... like the incessant mosquitoes in our rooms that left bites all over Sabrina’s face, and the stifling heat that prevented Liz from getting a good night’s sleep.

I did my best to dismiss these annoyances, and focus on the main course, which would be more than 5 hours of yoga and meditation per day, with no meat, no alcohol, and no coffee for a full week. However, on many occasions, I felt like Chevy Chase did in the movie “Vacation”... like I was driving a broken down stationwagon with people who weren’t enjoying themselves, to a destination we might never find, while dozens of obstacles unknown to me lurked in the future.

Pretzels, Anyone?

Luckily, our instructor was a true yogi and did not disappoint. She could twist and bend like a pretzel. Unluckily, we would also be asked to bend and twist like a pretzel. After the first session, I realized this was not going to be easy.

For example, during the opening meditation, my feet and calves were completely numb after five minutes of sitting cross legged. While Ganga floated away for 30 minutes in half lotus without flinching, I was wondering how I could find enlightenment if I was worried about the consequences of blood not circulating to the lower half of my body.

With the average yoga pose requiring only about 15 seconds, 2 hours is A LOT of yoga. At five hours per day, we were striking and holding hundreds of poses every single day. As easy as they look, each yoga pose hurts a little bit somewhere. By the end of day one, I was hurting a little bit everywhere.

But it was good pain, and I knew on a deep level that this was exactly the type of exercise (or “innercise” as Ganga accurately called it) I had been yearning for. I also felt a great connection with Ganga, maybe because she complimented my postures, and maybe because she gave me this endearing smile that penetrated me to an almost embarrassing degree as though she knew me better than I knew myself. To me, Ganga was the proverbial Christie Brinkley waving back at me as she zoomed off in a Ferrari. The “Ferrari” was her near permanent smile and peaceful demeanor.

My Head Hurts

We had a 4 - 5 hour break each afternoon in between meals and sessions, which left lots of time to rest, swim, tour the island, and discuss our “real life” problems and issues. I found these breaks were also like therapy “sessions” as I tried to balance the dynamics between our small group of three without getting a headache. And headaches I did get - whether it was coffee withdrawal symptoms, a change in diet, or from hearing yet another complaint about everything that “wasn’t perfect”, I am not sure. I was trying to see the comedy in the whole experience, even though I knew the joke was on me.

Manifesting Dolphins

The island itself was very beautiful. Crystal clear water, warm sunny days, vibrant green forest. We even saw dolphins - as I promised we would - during our boating adventure on day 3. I had joked with the girls about intending to see dolphins and that I had been working on my “dolphin call”. As we motored along in the boat, I was watching the water... keenly at first, then with a more relaxed gaze. Suddenly I received the magical impulse, the flash of insight as I felt more than thought “here would be a good place to see dolphins”. I raised my head a little and immediately saw and pointed out the first dolphin to the group. It was gone in an instant, but then it returned - leaping closer to us than before. Then a second dolphin appeared, and we admired their beauty and grace as they dipped and dove for several minutes. I honestly felt I had “summoned” them, as I deeply thanked them for granting my wish.

Discovering My Inner Yogi

As the days wore on, I started to sense the improvements in my body. Like wringing the dirt out of a wet towel - I felt like my body was being wrung free of toxins, misalignments, and stagnant energy.

Meanwhile, my roommates continued to “push my buttons”, asking me the questions I didn’t want to answer and making comments I didn’t want to hear. They were probing my sore spots like a well trained massage therapist. Whether intentional or not, they continued to stir up doubts, annoyances, and challenges. Having seen this movie before, I knew the lesson was to love and be grateful for them as though they were a part of me. I saw them as though they were appendages of my own mind, or parts of myself that I needed to face and make peace with.

Final Insights

By the end of the retreat I could sense that yoga and meditation were indeed very powerful tools, one that my higher self had been craving for some time. I also realized that one does not “become” a yogi after completing such and such a course, instead, every single day is challenge to apply what you have learned. I realized that true enlightenment was not something achieved during meditation but something expressed on a moment by moment basis. That expression was inner peace and outward love, and it would be a continuous exercise to maintain that state.

After a solid week of yoga and meditation under the guidance of a true master, I realized I had not completed anything, rather, I had just begun. As I said goodbye to the group and thanked them for their presence at the end of the retreat, I knew, more deeply than ever, that every breath is a new beginning, every movement a new opportunity to feel alive.

Written By Hive account@captainpicard