Lesson Learnt: When Things Feel Too Good to Be True, Check Your Network
Hello, hello! If you’ve been keeping up with my journal, you’d know I’ve been on a mission to flex (or at least attempt to flex) my muscles as part of a 21-day yoga challenge.
Today’s session was all about the upper body. The trainer had us holding poses for 20 counts each—gruelling, yes, but I was determined to keep up. Focused, laser-sharp, and ready to conquer every pose alongside the trainer.
But let me be honest—my real focus wasn’t on the asanas themselves. Oh no, it was on the trainer’s magical three words at the end of each set of reps: “Relax; let go…”
Aaaah, the sweet, instant relief those words bring!
It’s like heaven descends for a brief moment after 30 seconds of sheer tapas (discipline). Those three words are powerful enough to grab all my attention and practically pull me into another dimension.
Yes, I enter a different dimension, especially when the tougher asanas are done and dusted in the first half of the session, giving way to the more relaxing ones, breathwork, and meditation.
That’s exactly how it felt when it was time for shavaasana — a pose where I didn’t need to wait for the magical words “Relax; let go” at the end of the practice because those words were the essence of the asana itself.
There I was, lying flat on my yoga mat, arms stretched out with the winter chill from the floor seeping into my palms and creeping up my arms.
My feet, as if rebelling against the pose, had already tilted sideways into a relaxed semi-sleep position.
Meanwhile, my mind was doing its best to let go—of the random, logicless loops of thoughts, the never-ending marathon of tasks waiting for me, the honking vehicles, the hammering from construction next door, and yes, even the instructor’s voice guiding us.
Deep breaths, Preethi. Deep breaths. I remind myself.
Gradually, the surrounding noises and even the guiding voice of the instructor begin to fade away. At one point, the instructor stops speaking altogether—that’s the essence of shavaasana, after all.
Having practised this for the past two days, I knew the drill. With my eyes closed and my body completely relaxed, I let go of any anxiety about what would come next.
It was just me, the stillness, and the quiet unfolding of the moment.
There I was, entering a different dimension—or at least, that’s how it felt—a transcendence of sorts. Absolute silence and stillness enveloped me.
What was supposed to be a simple one-minute practice of shavaasana felt like a profound meditation. It was as if eons had passed, and I’d even time-travelled to catch a glimpse of my late ancestors.
“This can’t be real,” I told myself. Is this what people mean when they say meditation helps them transcend to different realms? My mind was busy analyzing it all, even as my eyes remained peacefully closed.
But there was a faint whisper persistently nudging me, which I kept brushing aside, convinced I was in a deep meditative state. That’s when a jarring, overly enthusiastic sales pitch for an SEO course shattered the stillness, startling me awake.
Disoriented and annoyed by the disruption, I turned my head and finally realized what that whisper had been trying to tell me all along: “When things feel too good to be true, check your network.”
What I had so proudly considered a transcendental meditative experience was, in fact, my seamless transition from shavaasana to shayanaasana (read: deep sleep!).
And all this thanks to my ever-helpful internet connection, which decided to take its own meditative pause mid-class!
So with that, I wrap up for the day. For more such profound reflective (!!) pieces, you can choose to subscribe to my page.
Bye for now. Stay awesome!
P.S. This post was first published, here.
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