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I fell for mags in my final year of uni. I was hired as a student reporter for UNSW’s Blitz, where I could regularly be found popping bubble wrap, flinging miscellaneous objects at the overhead fan (then ducking for cover) and smacking my seat in order to expel the “butt dust” that had gathered there. I later volunteered at FBI radio and ACP. Not long after, I was hired as a copy editor and thus my foray into publishing began. I dig writing, singing, guitar playing and laughing at Mum and Dad.

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Future Sound of Yoga

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29 Jun, 2010

On Friday evening after work, feeling completely buggered and the hint of a sore throat coming on, I somehow hauled my arse to a new type of yoga class.

The Future Sound of Yoga is yoga … with a DJ. Everyone I’ve relayed this to thus far has said, “Isn’t that contra to what yoga is all about? Isn’t it supposed to be all serene and … quiet?”. I thought the very same thing.

FSY is made up of Angel, the yoga instructor, and Matt, the aforementioned DJ. The tracks he blares through mighty big speakers are carefully selected, and designed to correlate with the various poses. The tunes are melodic and soothing at times, and thunderous and tribal the next. The result is that you end up adjusting your downward dogs and sun salutations to the beat of the music. This added element of sound really helped me let go and further explore the movements (yes, there was soulful, “I’m so in the moment right now” eye-closing involved).



As a newbie to yoga, I found this class surprisingly easy to not look like a fool in. Angel demonstrates each individual movement, then allows everyone about three minutes to play with it, get a feel for it and execute the move in our own time and rhythm. This I loved, because it gave me the unhurried chance to really get the most out of each exercise (oh, how I lingered on those stretches). We did moves that were particularly great for office-worker backs, and poses we were told would be beneficial for our immune system.

Towards the end, we came to the freeform shake-your-butt dance portion of the session. For this part, the dimmed lights are a godsend. Near darkness helps people let go, and let go I did. Looking around, it seemed everyone was whipping out moves that are usually reserved for alone time in one’s living room. Oddly enough, the space had transformed into some kind of a new-age nightclub, minus the sweaty blokes, blistering heels and overpriced cocktails. After jumping, skipping, hopping and grooving like the closet raver I am, I left the Future Sound of Yoga totally restored, elated and notably limber.

Visit www.futuresoundofyoga.com for event details.

 

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