The hippiest hippy

I am unsure how we got our hands on it, but a ‘relaxation’ cassette tape ended up in our house when we were all youngsters. My memory of this tape is hearing a creepy middle aged man’s voice alongside hearing the swallowing of his saliva so loud into the microphone that even if we bothered TRYING to relax, the sound of his loud gulps would put us off. But the honest truth is, I think we all had intentions of using the tape to make us laugh rather than relax. As a child, controlling stress is obviously a thing we never needed, and neither was imagining we were floating down a staircase or floating on cloud nine.

I remember a whole group of us kids lying on the carpet in my bedroom and listening to this tape. Usually there were at least one or two of the hippies in the making that actually wanted to relax (not me!) and the rest of us just lay there silent for the next few minutes waiting for someone to burst out laughing. This of course caused the rest of us to explode into fits of laughter also.

Those are the last memories I have of any form of meditation or relaxation. So perhaps 15 years has passed by and you are thinking I am a walking stress machine, right? Not quite. Praying as a practising Muslim 5 times a day acts as the best relaxation anyone could ever imagine. Escaping this world and reciting words of the glorious Quran, praising Allah and thanking Him for all that He has given us, does more to the soul than any gulping saliva man could ever offer.

But last night I did something that triggered off memory lane. I went to a class at my gym that assists in improving flexibility, light toning, and relaxation. The ‘advanced’ member of our class, a rather full figured lady stood right up the front. The instructor pointed this out to us; hence I was looking to her as my mentor seeing it was my first time attending. I realised I shouldn’t have bothered doing this half way through the class when my mentor could no longer pick herself up off the ground seeing she was so tired. The smirk on my face worried me, for I was scared it would erupt into laughter similar to that of my childhood.

The stretches and bending continued, breathing in as our arms arched up to the sky, and exhaling out as our arms went back down. Our thin blonde and possibly solarium tanned instructor with a shiny crystal belly ring reminded me of a white witch crossed with a love child from the 70’s. Her comforting soothing voice and enthusiasm showed through, as well as her passion for her job when I saw her holding herself back from singing the words to the track that was playing. It was quite a sight to see seeing most of the tracks sounded like wind chimes. I felt moments of guilt and unrest when my stomach began to grumble as I thought of the steak that was waiting for me at home. I smirked again at the fact that I was doing a healing class that perhaps at grass roots level would shun the killing of innocent cute animals for human consumption. To make myself feel better, I imagined my steak to be from a friendly smiley cow who winked at me as he was more than happy to set himself free and lay himself on my dinner plate.

I surprisingly controlled myself quite well during the class. Even during meditation time towards the end where we were asked to lie there silently whilst the instructor set the scene for us, I only let off a smirk or two. It seemed maybe I have finally grown up since the 15 years prior where we lay there laughing on my bedroom floor. It is amazing what age can do to someone :P

I have to admit I cheated though. But I felt better when my sister confessed she did too later as we drove home together. When asked during meditation time to imagine we were lying on a beach towel on a remote island all ALONE, I followed her instructions until I thought of a better plan. Why should I be all lonely during my time on this remote imaginary island, when I can have the man of my dreams lying down beside me? So that’s what I did. My mind placed my man by my side as we lay on the warm soft yellow sand as the sun shone down on our skin, and the birds could be heard chirping in the distance as the waves crashed against the shore.

Whilst my cheating seemed logical and within context, my sister confessed that SHE was in a field of beautifully scented flowers with her arms wide spread, spinning around and around in circles.

“How strange”, I thought.

It seems that in a competition as to who is the hippiest hippy out of my sister and me, my sister wins…

time and time again.