Banyoles/Catalunya, March 2022

My very best friend Tamsin, who I grew up together with, got married 11 years ago. We had a blast during hen‘s night in Berlin, together with the Formentera rat pack Deborah, Zaadi and Kiki taking part in a marvelous 1920ties party. Ever since, I had been trying hard to fulfill my wedding present that consisted in spending a whole week of surf and yoga somewhere by the Atlantic Ocean. Just the two of us.

But she got pregnant. Then did her MBA - Master of Business Administration. Got pregnant again. Started a new business besides her regular job as a biologist in a management position. And got pregnant again. Meanwhile, I went surfing on my own for countless times.

But the other day, our Greek yoga teacher Ioannis from Formentera announced on very short notice to be running a yoga retreat in the mountains of Catalunya, an hour-drive away from Barcelona. And without even questioning it, I booked us in, asking Tamsin to please liberate that weekend for us. And she did. Almost cancelled two days before due to family issues, but gave in at the end. And there we were, back on the road in a very light version of Thelma & Louise escapism. Nothing to compare to 15 years ago, when escaping on even shorter notice from Paris to Barcelona in a BMW-Mini onto a very adventurous trip leaving a hell a lot of problems and emotions behind. The truck with all her belongings packed in boxes following behind us.

Shortly after, she met Ivan who became her husband and father of their three daughters. 

This last yoga weekend meant a lot to us. It showed again how much we need and love each other. For instance, the last day during a demanding yoga practice, I suddenly broke down into pieces. Only because I was not able to do a posture, after trying over and over again without success. My sense for balance, stability and mobility is already quite out of control. How the hell am I going to end up in a year if this goes on like that? I burst into in tears like a child and could not stop crying, even after leaving the room outside into the ongoing rain. Kept on gasping for air in total desperation, not accepting - not wanting to end up in a fucking wheel chair and being depending on other people’s help. I don‘t want it! Bloody hell no! Then I cried out all this tension accumulated during the last weeks considering the war in Ukrainia. Every single night I go to sleep feeling endlessly guilty for leading such a great life while others are losing theirs. Who am I to feel pity for myself! Stop that!

I went back inside where the others had started chanting Hare Krishna songs. Normally, this chanting situation would have given me the absolute creeps, rolling up my toe‘s nails! But right in that moment I let myself go. Tamsin came to hug me with tears in her eyes, spreading her legs in front of me to come closer, and I saw a big hole in her yoga pants between her legs, that had been caused by all this intense stretching. Open hearts, open legs, open Shakras. Inside Out. What the hell. I felt good and releasing.

We drove back, singing out loud over and over again the Hare Krishna song, while driving down the windy mountain roads into the big city.

At home we ordered dinner: Sushi Rolls Inside Out.