Yoga & Orgasms

As my book  NYC HEAD OVER HIGH HEELS is coming along I felt like sharing a bit of the newest stuff from one of the chapters.. enjoy! xoxo KK 

Yoga & Orgasms

Like most New Yorkers who are on their A-game I have tried riding the raw food, vegan, Pilates, mediation, yoga health wave. And I have to admit with great results. All of it made me more focused, my hair more shiny, my skin more perky and my hip bones stick out to an A plus if you ask Rachel Zoe. Props to easily fitting into a size 0, envious glances from size 2 females and no hangovers on a regular Tuesday. However, the 6 am meditations, lunches at solely specific raw food locations and the moldy smell from the yoga mat get tedious after a while. Online and in most magazines you read about women having trouble following a diet, an exercise program or laying off the smokes so I’m certain I’m not the only one with pangs to skip a yoga class now and then and instead drown in a bottle of Sancerre or in a big jar of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate fudge ice cream. Do not kid yourself! It is a fulltime job to be a perfect 10 on a New York scale and it’s only a matter of a few weeks of stepping off the health wave before you are back into your normal size not to mention being transparent like air to the size 2 females. The perks on the other hand are that you can have as many drinks and late nights as you want without the shame. And, not to forget, in my experience you do get more glances and compliments from men when the curves AKA the love handles are back on the hips. Bye-bye size 0!!

Another thing is; I don’t have the patience to stand in a tree pose while my friends are blowing my phone up with messages about off the hook after parties with Deadmau5, Sum41, Gerald Butler and Stephen Dorph. Yes, I know life is more than after parties, high heels and boys, but a girl gotta have some fun once in a while. And Tolstoy, tree poses, tofu salad and deep breaths do not always do the trick for me.

What harm has a little rock’n’roll ever done to anyone?

Well, that was until I met Gus. Gus the yogi. Gus stopped drinking alcohol to focus on his practice as a yogi and to serve and let go of substance abuse and means of instant gratification. Ok gotcha so far: We will put the drinks and greasy food aside for a week and get to know each other and then party, make beautiful little, angelic babies and live happily ever after.

This man is beyond drop dead gorgeous. 6’4’’ with a slender, strong lean body and beautiful soft hands and is graced with blonde, long-ish hair like a grain field on a warm day in July and the greenest eyes I have ever encountered. Sorry for the ‘Bold and the Beautiful’ visual. Gus is straight, but doesn’t indulge in sex he told me one day on the subway from Manhattan to Williamsburg where his yoga studio is. Ok, so much for that plan about kids. ‘I have thought about traveling to Indonesia and going into a monastery. But I reconsidered when I got the opportunity to serve the community here through my practice. The studio has become my sanctuary and I feel there is a true purpose for me to stay here. There is so much work to be done in this neighborhood’.

At this point I mentally zone out as I’m watching his lips move, but without the faintest idea of what he is saying.  All I can think of at this point is how he smells, or what his chest looks like under the soft cotton shirt.  Not until he touches my shoulder and says ‘You can help too Kristina. Come with me tonight to the studio and I will give you an introduction before the class. We need people with the right mindset’. Right mindset? Hah! I’m happy Gus doesn’t know where my thoughts were wandering 5 seconds ago. I’m not really sure how to respond so I just say ‘yes’ even though I have no idea what I’m agreeing to.  But a night in company with the 6’4’’ blonde Adonis cannot be all bad. Even if it involves tree poses and many downward dogs. My hate position numero uno. It’s almost like a really bad and hairy 69 if you know what I mean…

It’s 8.30 pm and I’m stepping into Gus’ studio. It’s dark, smells like incense, spices and warm wood. I move further into the dance studio where loud, tribal music is playing. At this point I almost feel like I’m stepping into a scene of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ as Liz Gilbert arriving to Bali. I quietly place my yoga mat on the floor and sit down. And yes, if you were wondering; I do have the same yoga mat as Kate Hudson. The pink, yellow and white one with the Buddhas on. Even though I’m doing community work or serving the neighborhood or whatever it is that I’m doing, I can still make a statement.

But back to my story. I will late forget the sight that meets my eyes this moment. In a candle lit dance studio I see Gus moving as was he in a trance. He is almost not touching the ground. So light, easy yet strong are his moves. A continuous flow of surprises where it looks like he is using the rhythm and variations from the music as a physical dance partner.  I’m not that big on modern dance, where form takes over content. It is too forced and lacks passion in my taste. But this is something way beyond trying. This is organic, human and so beautiful I forget everything about Kate Hudson, fashion and ‘Eat, Pray, Love’. I guess I’m in the moment. And so is Gus. He is actually so much in the moment that he doesn’t realize he is being observed until many minutes pass and the tribal rhythms slowly fade and we leave Bali and find ourselves back in reality AKA Williamsburg with the normal distant sounds of traffic and Brooklyn accents from people in the streets.

Sweaty, with a huge grin he walks towards me. ‘Namasté Kristina. Happy to see you here’. I’m so beside myself I have no words, so I randomly ask ‘where did you buy your incenses? They smell amazing!’ I could kill myself at this point. Why couldn’t I say something cool or rather insightful about what I just saw him perform? Or at least talk about politics or something not so ‘blonde’ and ‘consumer oriented’. But Gus doesn’t seem to mind and I’m saved by the bell when 3 girls and a guy walk into the studio with a ‘Namesté’ and yoga mats under their arms. Obviously not Kate Hudson style mats in case you were wondering. However, these 3 females are extremely beautiful even in yoga pants and ponytails. I have a good eye and the dim light is not fooling me. The man is a bit awkward and I can tell he obviously has a crush on Gus. But can you blame the poor fellow?

I soon realize that most of the neighborhood does. Is it not funny how all his students are women mixed with a couple of gay men for good measure and Gus runs a waitlist longer than the one Hermés has for the Birkin bag? Which brings me to my point that it is such a waste that Gus is in celibacy. I mean he could ‘serve’ so much more and in my opinion better if he helped out some of these frustrated model girls who attend his class. At this point Gus’ yoga studio is Wilhelmina Models central and the blonde bloke doesn’t seem to have a care int his world about outer beauty. How angelic! Husband material much? Hence, it makes it even more annoying that he is in a relationship with God.

So why does this first time at Gus’ studio turn out to be my last? I will tell you:

As the class is filling up Gus asks everybody to pair up and tells me to be his partner. ‘We are about to go into a stretch and deep breath-release exercise and it is important that you take your time and do not compete or measure yourself and your practice with anyone in the room.’

The actual exercise consists of a very relaxing breathing technique where you stretch each other as you take turns to lie on top of each other. I know it sounds weird, but it is actually very sober and more of a matter of trusting the other person so you can achieve the best stretch and your body releases toxins. However, I will point out how intimidating it was for me to lie on top of Gus with my back on his chest as he made sure my whole body was relaxing bit for bit. As I was getting more and more comfortable Gus stretched me even further and then the weirdest and most embarrassing thing happened to me. No I didn’t fart. If it was only that. I had a small orgasm right there and then. I kid you not! And unfortunately it was noisy enough for the whole room to hear.

Dead silence. And then came the laughter storm. Gus just smiled as I scrambled my sorry self over the floor trying to pick up the last bit of dignity I mustered. ‘This was a very good stretch Kristina. Beautiful work tonight. ‘ He said. ‘You should be proud that you let go so much on your first practice’.

Omg! What was he talking about? Let go? Beautiful work? Luckily the room was still so dark that nobody really could tell how red my face was at this point. And that was the end of that. I left ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ central faster than Julia Roberts ran from her weddings in ‘Runaway Bride’ and I never looked back.

However, from time to time I google Gus, his studio and whereabouts and from what I hear and read my little ‘incident of pleasure’ spread like a wildfire and now Gus has even more eager, female supporters. I even heard that the Olsen Twins are on the waitlist to get ‘served’. Oh well. I guess I did do something good for community that night after all. And you gotta give it to Gus. He is one of the only New York men that I have encountered, who is happy in his relationship and does not cheat on his partner. But then after all, this New York Yogi is in a relationship with God. And who wants to mess with that?

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