Lena’s waiting for me outside the yoga centre as we pull up in the car. Mum and Dad gave me a lift because the centre is literally a bunch of converted barns in the arse end of nowhere. I hop out and wave to them as they head off for brunch somewhere in town and are entrusting Lena’s brother River to drop me home in one piece after the class.
Lena grins, instantly brightening up the grey November day. Alongside the damp mist, the scent of incense hangs in the air, hinting at the serenity on the other side of the doors.
I’m feeling more confident than last time, knowing this class is not going to be conducted in desert-worthy temperatures.
“Fancy seeing you here,” I say, pulling Lena into a hug. I can tell she’s already been inside because she smells like lemongrass and sage. She’s probably been helping her mum set up for the class.
“Are you ready to fully align your body and mind?” she asks.
“I thought you were going to say ‘chakras’, for a minute,” I say, and laugh.
Lena laughs too. “Well, that’s just a given. Shall we go in? My chakras are freezing their tits off out here.”
I follow Lena in to the front desk, where a guy around our age is typing away on a computer. He has tanned skin and curly black hair and is rather attractive.
“Two here for yoga,” announces Lena, gesturing at me. “Lena and Rose.”
The boy smiles and looks perplexed at the same time. “You know you don’t have to check in. I know who you are.”
“Just making sure you’re doing your job properly – keeping you on your toes,” quips Lena.
Despite this being Lena’s “year of dating myself” – she’s one of those naturally charismatic people, flirty and friendly. Perhaps lovely auras and aligned chakras are more useful than they sound.
“As always,” the boy says, and grins. He pretends to type on the keyboard and nods. “You’re all checked in.” His smile is very charming.
Lena shakes her head fondly. “You’re a muppet.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good sesh!” he calls after us.
I follow Lena out of reception and through the courtyard to the main yoga barn. “Who’s that?”
“Omar. He’s an absolute babe.”
“He seems nice.”
“He is. Not bad-looking either.” Lena gives me the cheeky side-eye.
“Could he make you change your mind about dating yourself this year?” I tease.
“Nope. I’m not interested in him in that way.”
I can tell she means it. Lena really is one in a million.
We shuffle into the main hall, where the walls are painted in calming pastels and what sounds like whale noises are playing in the background. Lena and I grab mats and set up in a cosy corner. I always like to be at the back in case I look funny in the positions, need a rest halfway through or – God forbid – let one rip. Lena says it happens all the time and that the sound of a queef or two is as commonplace as meditation chants and whale song.
Mummy Lola, with her flowing hair the same colour as Lena’s and a serene smile, glides past. There’s a warmth in her eyes that makes me feel instantly at home.
Lena moves to lie on her stomach and props herself up with her elbows. “Hopefully this class will help you connect to your body more,” she says. Then adds in a whisper: “Get that orgasm.”
Ah yes – my elusive orgasm. If I haven’t managed to give myself one, I doubt that Joel will be able to. But I guess learning how to be more zen will be helpful anyway and might actually mean I’m relaxed enough for Joel to gain entry.
“I know it will happen one day,” I say confidently, moving to lie next to her.
She frowns. “How can you be so sure?”
“I guess it’s just one of those things that happens for everyone. It’s natural.” Yeah, but so is sex, and you’re not yet able to do that… “I’ve felt close to something big before, but then I lose it. I either get in my own head or Joel moves away from the spot.”
“Why do you think you get in your own head? Do you think you’re scared?”
“Maybe. The idea of being so out of control is pretty scary, not knowing what to expect or how I might act. What if I make weird noises or pull stupid faces?”
“Everyone does.”
“Do you?”
“Dunno,” says Lena. “I—”
“Good morning, everyone.” Lola’s voice floats across the room, firm and gentle at the same time. Lena and I shift into a cross-legged position.
As we’ve been chatting, the rest of the class has trickled in, and to my relief it’s a small group. I know what’s coming next.
“We will start the class with a quick introduction to who we are and why we’re here, before going into a brief meditation. Find out who we’re sharing our sacred space with.”
I stifle a giggle. Sacred space totally sounds like a euphemism.
As we go round the room, I learn that I’m sharing my sacred space with a lawyer, a teacher, a stay-at-home mum and a counsellor.
The counsellor’s name is Jacqui and she has the type of presence that feels calm and authoritative at the same time. She says she needs to look after herself in order to serve her clients. My stomach pings as I imagine going up to her and asking if she’s ever had a client with a problem like mine.
Everyone adds something profound about why they’re here, like I’m here to honour my body and I’m here to access my body’s wisdom, and when it’s my turn I freeze. What do I say? Hello, my name is Rose and I’m here because my friend thinks I want to learn how to orgasm during sex, but, in actual fact, when I tried to have sex it didn’t even work, so I’m as far away from that outcome as I am from Mars.
Obviously I don’t say that. I just mutter something about needing to relax.
The class begins. Mummy Lola leads us through a guided meditation before we get into poses. I follow Lena’s lead, trying to mimic her movements at the same time as trying to feel my way into my body, with a mindset of curiosity and open attention, as instructed.
“This,” says Mummy Lola, “is about mind–body connection. What are they saying to each other?”
It’s far less peaceful than I had envisaged because the only thing my mind is saying to my body is, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHY CAN’T YOU HAVE SEX? Except for when we move into downward dog, when it says, Don’t fart, don’t fart, don’t fart. I don’t, luckily. How’s that for mind–body connection?