Leaving an event midway through is not something I imagined myself doing. I see too many videos online showing teachers chastising those choosing to leave a yoga class during savasana (the lying down pose at the end of class). And I get it. I do think it is slightly disrespectful and creates disruption even if you try your hardest to be quiet. It is the moment in class where students are still, their eyes are closed, they’re soaking up the benefits of the practice in complete relaxation. Only to be ruined by the pitter-patter of bare feet and the not-so-quiet scramble of someone grabbing their belongings and walking out of the door.

And yet, I was that person recently when an event I signed up for did not meet my expectations. Worse still, it left me feeling extremely disappointed; the experience instead felt intrusive. It was the opposite of relaxing as it was purported to be.

My expectations were challenged as soon as I walked into the building. I was wearing a white skirt as I was sold that we will get into some twirling movement to get our body and mind into a state of flow. To my surprise, the space was not a dimly lit bar with the floor cleared for dancing. A type of room in which you envision poets performing their spoken word piece. Forgive me for falling for images which showed distinguished men in suits sitting in a bar and some black and white close ups of what looked to be people mid-dance. Instead, I saw a door into regular yoga studio , mats laid out with pillows and blankets and when I looked down at my attire my mind raced with worry. I accepted we may be doing some gentle yoga instead and reminded myself that I can always stay in savasana or child’s pose for the duration of class if I wished.

I sat on my mat and waited for the teacher to begin. We will start with a meditation, relax with a sound bath, and finally get into some creative poetry writing. This was not completely what I expected but I paid for the ticket, and at least I was looking forward to the poetry which was the main thing that caught my attention. Movement, however, was already out of the question. We closed our eyes and began with a breathing exercise. It was all well and good until I heard, “click”, “click”, “click”.

I open one eye and realise someone is taking photos of the event. I think to myself, fair enough, they want a few pictures they can use for business. I was uncomfortable that we were not notified before or asked for explicit consent. And I thought at least it will stop after a few clicks. But no. During the meditation, a time for silence and introspection, while focusing on breathing and ‘the sounds you can hear in the room’, all I could focus on was not the distant buzz of traffic, the faint electricity of the light, or perhaps the fall and rise of my breath, but rather the discomfort of the camera shutter going off at intervals.

Here, I reminded myself of the patience that yoga champions. Practicing pratyahara (sensory withdrawal) to move into dhyana (profound contemplation) by keeping my eyes closed and focusing on the breath. Essentially trying to accept an imperfect environment and tuning out the noise. However, there is a difference in tuning out the noise of your own thoughts or life happening around you , and the noise of an unexpected and unwanted camera shutter sound in a room specifically designed for silence and peace. Only in the midst of the photos being taken did the facilitator mention there is a person taking photos.

After this disturbing meditation, we were asked to lie down, with the option of pulling the blanket up to our chin and relax for a journey of sound…

Except the sounds involved the intrusive clicks of the camera shutter…

I close my eyes after shuffling to find a comfortable position and wait for the signing bowls to start. They started soft and gentle, melodic vibrations reverberating around the room. The sounds grew more intense as the facilitator played with the sonorous depths of a gong. During this sound bath, the intrusive clicks of the camera shutter kept intercepting like an uninvited guest.

Squeezing my eyes harder to find more darkness did not help. Pricking my ears to the sounds of the singing bowls did not help. Every sound was amplified in the darkness and quiet of the room. I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling. I felt my limbs lying flat and defeated. For a moment I almost felt like I was in sleep paralysis. My body was frozen with discomfort and my thoughts were pleading me to drag my body out and away from the room. I let myself lay in the uneasiness until I felt I didn’t have to.

As though discovering free will, I told myself that ultimately no one but me decided my experiences and I was tired of staying somewhere that actively caused me distress. An event that claimed to take me on a relaxing journey, where I could let my body and mind relax and soak up healing vibrations, turned out to be an experience that left me more agitated than at ease.

Weighing up the discomfort of staying somewhere that did not serve me vs the social discomfort of appearing rude or disrespectful, I chose myself in this situation. It took immense will power to will my body to stand up, blanket sliding softly to the ground. Joining the sounds of the gong and the camera shutter was the pitter-patter of my bare feet as I tip toed around the mats, grabbed my bag not-so-quietly, and with a haphazard sorry wave, I left the room.

Walking out into the streets briskly, I felt proud and slightly dazed with bewilderment. I couldn’t decide if I was still frustrated or if the situation left me feeling amused by its absurdity. Strangely, I also felt very adult-like. Here I was, at the ripe age of twenty and eight, completely honouring my boundaries, not settling to endure something that just did not feel right.

It was both an act of self-love and self-respect.

Was I disappointed that my evening was ruined and I now had an unaccounted window of time open? Of course I was. Was I disappointed with myself that I couldn’t just stick it out? Definitely not. I was glad that I listened to my body and ignored the unspoken societal pressure to be socially agreeable and grateful despite an experience not feeling right.

This is all to highlight how important it is to have discernment, even in wellness spaces for yoga and meditation. Although these events are designed for someone to disarm, let go, relax and practice mindfulness, unfortunately, they are still created by humans who happen to make mistakes. Sometimes rather than prioritising a payee’s experience, you’ll find people more focused on creating content at the expense of that persons experience. Just know that if, for whatever reason, a class, an event or experience is not what you expected it to be or is actively distressing, you are allowed to walk away guilt-free.

Listen to your body.

With love,

Paulina