Yoga, or the not so Zen and relaxing morning I thought it would be.

On my first Friday in Melbourne I had an invitation to join in on Yoga class with a friend of a friend who lives here with her husband. My journey began by walking to the tram at 8:20 - thinking this would give me plenty of time to get to the studio by 9:15. Little did I know that I would get off the tram too early, miss the first train, wait for the second. Make it to the next train station where I have to run to catch the second train, to then finally end on the street where I needed to be.

I emerge from the station, already knowing that I am 30 minutes late at this point, and that I will not be interrupting the already-in-progress yoga session, so I plan on camping out until its over to at least say hi to my newly acquired, but less-than-impressed-with-my-punctuality friends. From out of nowhere swoops in a middle age asian man (Asians make up a large part of the population in Australia because of the close proximity between the two continents).  I try to smile and move on, but he follows me - wanting to know my name, and why I have a funny accent - where I am from and why I am in Australia. And then he takes it one step further by wanting not only to escort me to the yoga studio, but he wants my phone number so that we can meet up for coffee one day and that way "we can be friends." I politely tell him that I do not have an Australian number (even though I do-please forgive me for lying) - so he proceeds to dig out an old, dingy receipt to give me his number instead. Feeling bad is an understatement of how I felt when he finally directed me in the way I should continue down the sidewalk to the studio and reminded me we were to be friends. Ning was his name, and unless by some act of God we happen to run into each other again, I will not be meeting him for coffee. But all he wanted was a friend, which makes me feel like a knife is driving through my heart every time I think of ditching him. I hope Ning finds friends to have coffee with soon...

So onto my camping out, waiting for yoga to finish, I find a nice coffee shop to wait in, complete with a sweet Barista named Shannon who "awww" and "there, there's" me as I vent about the horrible journey of coming allll the way to this part of town from where I live in Balwyn (apparently not too many people journey over an hour just to go to yoga - who knew!?) She whipped me up one of my newly found favorite drinks: a skinny cap (cappuccino made with skim milk - topped with a dash of chocolate dust - they are to die for) and I settled in with the most recent issue of Vogue for the next 30 minutes.

After a quick hi and bye to my yoga buddies, I marched back where I had just recently come from to journey all the way back to my side of the suburbs. (Keep in mind, I am rockin my new bright blue tennis shoes and have a giant, rolled up yoga mat slung over my shoulder - so I am not discreet by any stretch of the imagination whilst I am running through train stations and crowding onto already max capacity trams). Exhausted just from the journey to get there and back, I want to sit in peace for a little while, but low and behold - Sarah has to be waiting for the exact same tram. Sarah, a middle aged woman with unnaturally fiery red hair, bad teeth and crazy-big sunglasses (in a way, she reminded me of my French study abroad mom, Pascal - which is maybe why although not in any mood to chat, I conceded and politely listened to what she had to say). On and on about her daughters health problems and her miraculous pregnancy, and how she "loves the name "Bethany" - that she needs to write that one down to remember to tell her daughter because she thinks the baby needs to be named Bethany now" ---

Well I do not know what it was about that Friday with my yoga mat and bright blue shoes, but something had "talk to me" written all over my face - and talk to me, people did. I might never have coffee with Ning, not ever see Shannon again, and one day, there might be a miracle baby named after me, running around Australia - but what I do know is, that was one glimpse of sunshine for me that Friday. Stressed for being late and missing yoga, but if I had not been late, I would have never met these amazing people. For one reason or another, our paths crossed, and I hope I touched them in some way because they let me know that I have God Winks (as one of my closest friends back home calls them) all around me. Little instances that give me a spark of joy to know that every thing is going to be ok, even on the rough morning days.