Week "Nought," As They Say

"London is the new New York," I thought happily as I bounded with great enthusiasm into the yoga class. After four hours of exploring Portobello Market, I thought it would be nice to stretch and sweat -- sit, stand, lie. And why not at Jivamukti London? The NY yoga style is one of my favorites. It would be good to feel at home with a familiar practice.

"Om." The class begins. Perfect. "Om" again. Yes.  And then,

"2012 will bring the end of the world."

Um, what?

The teacher continues, "We should not be afraid. We will all die one day. It matters not if it's next December."

I think it may matter.

"Recent economic upheavals, climate change, the development of social media, and increased interest in yoga all foreshadow an imminent change in consciousness, an apocalyptic evolution of man."

This isn't yoga! I'm at a Rick Perry rally! Shit! I open my eyes in hope to connect with other uncomfortable yogis. All appear in meditative bliss. And then, to top it all off:

"Today, we will stand on our heads in preparation for the end."

I will not stand on my head. I am firmly against headstands.

"Please step back into downward facing dog."

I follow, then stretch out to plank, go down to the floor, inhale, cobra: familiar territory. And before I know it, it's time to do headstand. Without a thought, I drag my mat to the wall and work on coming up.

"Great class," I think, as I push out of shavasana. "Namaste."

Should I be worried about yoga? Nah! Instead, I'll just go back!