Page 48 of Connor

As the morning sun coats me in its rays, I close my eyes, my body nimble, feeling the movements automatically as I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. It’s been a long week, and I’m so glad to have the weekend in front of me now.

A goat bleats in the distance, and I hear the slow movements of a cow walking in a nearby field and the rustle of a tiny breeze through the trees. This is surreal and beautiful.

I continue to bend, stretching my body, feeling my muscles lengthen and awaken. My bare feet press firmly on the grass, grounding my body with nature as I move into the downward dog. Feeling tight in my calves, I hold the pose for a moment before I roll up again. Every joint in my spine stacks on top of each other as I stand, and I take in a big breath, slowly opening my eyes.

“Ahhhhhh!” I scream, jumping back and clenching my hands at my chest as Connor stands right in front of me, half-naked. And he’s laughing.

“You said to join you for yoga?” His eyes trail up and down my body, not so subtly, as I try to calm my frightened heart. Yeah, staying away from each other is proving difficult, but we’re adults. We can behave ourselves.

“Deciding to scare people is a new tactic of yours, is it?” I ask, the slight sass I get around him back in action.

“Well, that, and attempting to do whatever it is you were just doing.” A small smile dances on his lips.

“I’m surprised you came.” My smile spreads wider now that the adrenaline rush from fright disappears, because I was sure he wouldn’t join me for this. It’s been a few days since I mentioned it, the two of us busy with work and barely having time to chat.

“I did. Not sure if I’m going to regret this or not…” he says, sounding unsure. Throwing his damp t-shirt that’s tucked into the waistband of his shorts onto the ground, his amazing physique is showcased to me in nothing but a pair of black gym shorts. He’s confident, clearly happy with his body, and he should be. My mouth salivates at the sight.

“Hmmmm, you might,” I say with a grin. I can’t wait for this. It’s clear he’s not a yogi. In fact, most things that we discuss about the spa, he has no idea about. He’s very much a man's man, although open to new ideas and trying new things, which I appreciate.

“Okay, where do you want me?” he asks, obviously eager to give it a go. Either that, or he has a meeting he needs to dash to. But he seems a little jumpy, almost nervous, which isn’t like him.

“Have you done yoga before?”

“I’ve never done any yoga or Pilates or slow, stretchy movements before, and if my father could see me now, I know he’d be rolling around on the grass, laughing his ass off. But I’m interested in trying out everything you suggest, because work is handing me my ass at the moment.” As he kicks off his shoes to go barefoot like me, my smile widens.

“Okay, well, let’s start with a mountain pose,” I tell him, my voice immediately calming. After years of practice, I can barely notice when it changes, the melodic tone second nature now. We stand opposite each other, facing one another.

“Put your feet hip width apart and flat on the ground.” Showing him, he follows my lead. “Spread your toes, create awareness at all four corners of your feet and draw the energy up through your legs, bringing your palms together at the heart.” I continue and close my eyes as my hands move up into a prayer motion, showing him and assuming he follows suit. I pause for a moment and take a few deep breaths, and as I open my eyes, I see him struggling. His feet are moving; he’s clearly getting frustrated, and I can tell he isn’t as grounded as he should be.

“Take your time. Get comfortable with just standing firm, connecting to the ground.”

“I’m still trying to work out how my feet have four corners and how I can recover my barley crops after the storm damaged them the other day,” he says honestly, his shoulders tight around his ears and his body tense. I can tell his mind’s still racing, and I think for a moment.

“You know, it might be best to do some meditation today. Try to relax your mind before we relax your body. Let’s sit.” I lower myself to the grass and sit cross-legged, waiting for him to do the same.

“Ahh, meditation?” he asks hesitantly.

“Trust me,” I tell him, and he nods, sitting down, crossing his legs awkwardly as he sits in front of me, our knees now touching.

“Give me your hands,” I tell him, and he puts out his hands. Taking them in mine, I shake them a little, trying to loosen up his upper body, moving them around and up and down, literally shaking the stress right out of his shoulders. I feel them relax before I gently place them palm down on his knees.

“Close your eyes.” I watch him as he does, then I do too.

“Now, take a deep breath in through your nose for four counts…” I say, my voice calm as I count the beats and breathe in and hear him do the same. “Now breathe out through the mouth for four.”

“And again,” I say, this time not counting, but I can hear his breath as we both inhale, then exhale.

My eyes open to take a look at him. “Feel the breeze in your hair and as it brushes over your skin.” This massive man is sitting cross-legged in front of me with his eyes closed, deep breathing, and I can physically see his shoulders have lowered. It makes me smile.

“Take a deep breath in through your nose… and then out through your mouth.”

His diaphragm expands and then contracts with each direction I give him, going on for another five minutes until his breaths are perfectly steady and his face has smoothed into one of serenity.

“Now, open your eyes,” I say quietly, and he opens his eyes, his gaze right on mine. Our knees still touching, we both sit quietly for a moment, comfortable in each other's presence. Basking in the morning light, the sounds of nature on a quiet sunny morning fill our ears. I don’t want to move, and he doesn’t seem to want to either.

“You’re very good at all this,” he says, his voice sounding calmer and more deliberate.

The compliment means a lot to me. “I've been practicing my whole life.”

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