To the innocent bystander, the transition from tai chi to yoga must seem like swapping a boiled egg for a poached one. Yes, the two disciplines do have similarities, not least in this case because again we are in the capable hands of Anne and Nora at Headway East London. The key differences between the two (tai chi and yoga, not Anne and Nora) are movement and breathing. Breathing is much more of a BIG DEAL in yoga, and the movement is more structured than in tai chi, aimed often at specific parts of the body. Moreover, whereas you can adapt tai chi exercises into something you can do easily at, say, the bus stop, or in the kitchen while waiting for the kettle to boil, yoga demands more focus, a focus that leads you to "feel" the movements and stretches.
We started the programme seated, which is a gentle way to introduce the movements. The Cat-Cow is a movement that stretches the back and neck by first rounding the shoulders forward then reversing the movement back while tilting the pelvis, arching the back, extending the chin and chest into what is hopefully a sort of elegant s-shape. Not sure I quite hit the mark on that one. The word elegant did not spring to mind. We went on to do some moves where we sit, hands together, elbows pointing right and left, in a sort of praying pose. Then we breathe in, extend our praying hands skyward as if reaching for heaven, then hold, breathe out, breathe in, extend hands towards the outer reaches of the universe, and hold, breathe out, breathe in, and slowly move your arms back to planet earth in a forward stretch that again arches the back, sticking out your chin and staring meaningfully at that spot on the wall. You then bring your arms first down to the side of your chair, then gather up your hands into your lap in what is supposed to look like a dignified, enigmatic yoga-type pose. I was convinced that I looked the part, but that could have been delusion kicking in.
If this is as far as I ever get in yoga, I shall be quite happy. The Cat-Cow thing could, in my view, be done easily while sat on the toilet. Who knows, we could have discovered a revolutionary aid to comfortable defecation? Send me the cheque. Anyway, I have already been able to build it into my daily routine to the extent that I can sit, stock still, in a straight, aligned and yogistically perfect way (or so I imagine) watching Midsomer Murders and not feel like a dickhead. It helps having a wife who is a Yoga Bore.
So, well done Yoga. Well done Anne for making it so easy for someone who probably would have previously shot anyone who dared to suggest my life might be improved by this Total Hippy Nonsense. I was wrong, you were all right, and I surrender. Defeat, bring it on xx
