Samadi Yoga Bali’s Zenith of Zen Yoga Class Experience

I could see my sweat dripping onto the blue mat with the circle logo of Samadi Yoga.

Drip, drip, drip. A bucket of drips.

I didn’t know I could sweat this much. I didn’t even know that I could sweat from my head. Also, why did I put on full makeup this morning?

Those were the thoughts that shouldn’t be running through my mind, especially when I was in the middle of a downward dog with twenty other strangers who seemed far more experienced than me (I was the only one who couldn’t do nor tried the handstand)—at least from what I could see from my peripheral vision.

The teacher—a tiny woman who speaks English with a strong accent— did say that it wasn’t a beginner class at the start, but this was the next class available to join when I dropped by the Samadi Yoga today. And since I already had my yoga pants on, why not. So, I paid for the class (showing my KTP, Indonesian ID, for an Indo discount) before sitting in Samadi Yoga Cafe-cum-courtyard accompanied by the brownest flat white of my life.

Fast forward to an hour (the yoga class ran close to two hours), and I was sweating buckets and falling at the handstand, but then a few more flows later, the endorphins kicked in. I started thinking of how beautiful the Samadi Yoga space is, that I love my classmates’ collective vibes, how cool is my yoga teacher, and that I should stalk her on Instagram as I do with my favourite yoga teacher in Melbourne (Hi Anzari) and that life is so so good.

I shouldn’t have these thoughts; instead, I should have focused on my breathing.

Eventually, after a level two bridge pose (I didn’t know there were levels), we went to Savasana. I felt like the first Savasana that I truly deserved.

Again, I shouldn’t think like this because, of course, I deserve every Savasana I had. But this Savasana was special as the teacher came and saged each of us and then came again to rub essential oils on our temples. That was the moment I was drenched both with sweat and gratitude. I was still in a blissful daze when I walked out of the class. The spell was only broken when I saw Fafa in the crowd.

He asked how the class was. I told him it could just be the best yoga class of my life. And that I was coming back to Samadi Yoga the next day—with a hotel towel.

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