Fed Expressed



From Feds mind to your eyes

June 2014

 Asana = ‘Posture holding still, breathing always normal.’

May 2014

As you might be aware, if you were born in Modena, Italy, you’re automatically entitled to get a Ferrari, when you turn 18. I, of course, was no exception.

I remember that day like it was yesterday or never.

The excitement, the anticipation… the adrenaline rush, as I was stroking the beautiful metallic red, at the thought of finally being able to compensate for my small nose.

Sergio Zanella, the owner of the garage my dad took me to, to receive what was mine by birthright, looked me in the eye sternly for a while and then broke out in a benevolent smile, as he handed me the keys, saying: ‘Treat her right, my son. Take care of her and make sure you take her out for a spin regularly. That’s what she’s meant to do and that way the engine will remain in tip top condition.’

I eagerly nodded my head, grabbed the keys and then ran to enjoy my very first Ferrari drive.

Little did I know that what that gentle fellow had told me, was all lies.

You’ve heard right. Yesterday, after 15 years of idyllic companionship, I had to send my beloved Bufala (yes, that was the name I gave her) to the scrap heap.

And why? Well, it must have been all those regular spins I took her on. There’s no other explanation. Because that’s when it happened: the day before, I put the key in, turned the engine on and my poor Bufala, after a loud cough and splurt, made a hiss, like a deflating sound and then died completely. Therefore, the ignition itself must have been the cause of her demise. Because she’d always been fine, when my friend Luca and I had played “Hammer of God” with her, by hitting Bufala’s engine with a sledgehammer as hard as we could, and determining the score according to how big a dent we would leave on the metal. And all the time I made her run on water, instead of petrol (we all know how expensive petrol can be), she was as happy as Larry… Of course, there were a few weird sounds coming from her and the drive wasn’t always smooth, but nothing more than that!

Then, the other day, I just turned the key and she was gone. With a tank full of petrol too!

I would go back to that cheery old man in Modena and give him a piece of my mind, but he’s dead now. Or never existed.

April 2014

There’s no physical, artistic or intellectual activity (in the world) that can’t be improved by bringing presence and awareness into it.

Proof of that is Jason Derulo, who wrote that song just looking at her.

He should have been concentrating on what he was doing.

March 2014

The heat in a Bikram class is like the movie ‘The Wolf Of Wall Street': some of us hate it, some of us love it, but it’s Jonah Hill who has the last laugh.

February 2014


And suddenly, out of the blue, it’s February.


Yes! We made it. It wasn’t easy, what with all our resolutions and everything, but we soldiered through. Now, we can finally relax! And go back to our old ways.




At the beginning of the year, here at BYC, we always experience a great influx of new people – after all, it’s the perfect time to start a new regime. And they’re often brought in by friends, eager to introduce someone they care about to a practice that might have actually changed their life.


And that’s fantastic.

However, if the challenge for a new student is to go through the class itself (we’ve all been there), the challenge for the friend/relative/partner introducing them, is to do their own yoga and not their friend’s!

Of course, it’s understandable. We want them to have a nice time. We want them to do it right and get the most out of their experience.

But, let’s be honest, can you really have a ‘nice’ time in a Bikram class? Not really… Regardless whether your friend shows you how to cross your arms in Eagle or not. You might have an INCREDIBLE, LIFE-CHANGING, WONDROUS time, that makes you say, at the end of class: ‘I’ve never done anything so hard in my life… It was actually fun!!’ But not a’nice’ time.

It wasn’t like that for us in our first class, why should it be different for them in theirs? It’s part of the process.

So, when we are introducing someone new to Bikram yoga, we must embrace our challenge and let them get on with theirs.

Interacting with people to show them some funky moves, is not helpful to us or to them, for various reasons.

It’s not helpful to us, because, whether we admit it or not, talking or gesticulating to our friend – whilst we ‘inconspicuously’ mouth “T H I S  I S  H O W  Y OU  D O  I T..!” – is a way for us to let our mind wonder out of our class and stop dealing with whatever unpleasant sensation or experience we might be going through. And if we do that, we miss out on the opportunity to grow stronger.

It’s not helpful to them, because, first of all, if they’re listening to us standing next to them, they’re not listening to the teacher, so we’re actually making their life harder.

And also, they have the right to be wrong too. Just like we were in our first class. And just how we probably still are in our 10982735th class..! Being wrong and realising it for ourselves, is the only true way to get it right. The reason why the teacher is not correcting them, is not that they haven’t seen them or they’re not taking care of them: it’s because they’re letting them learn gradually. There’s no point in correcting or addressing a new person on everything wrong they do… Class would last two days and the new person would probably feel overwhelmed and quite embarrassed to be constantly singled out. Usually, as long as they’re not in danger of injuring themselves by busting some crazy move, students on their first class are best left in peace, just providing some positive encouragement, from time to time. Because, ultimately, if they’re trying their best… Then they ARE doing it right!! Like everyone else.

So, if we really want to help our friends in their first class, the best way to do it is to be even more focused, even more in the moment, listening even closer to the teacher’s instructions and work even harder.

Let’s lead by example. Let’s show them how it’s done, by doing it ourselves, with even more commitment and dedication. Let’s share the class, by experiencing it together, rather than interacting with each other and missing it.

Then, after the 90 minutes, after final Savasana, outside the yoga room, we can go crazy: let’s talk, recount, ask and explain to our heart’s content. Chances are, we’re now even closer friends.

January 2014



What’s missing?

December 2013 

Hopefully, never.’Oh, good grief, why can’t you just give a serious answer, for once??’


I’m serious.


‘I can’t tell, anymore.’


I know. Sometimes, neither can I. But this time I am.


‘Right, I give up.’






Because then it would get easier! But not really worth it.


‘No, I meant I give up listening to you!”

Oh. Of course. In that case I’ll carry on with my shower, if that’s alright, madam?

November 2013

The other day I decided to attend a French class.

I’ve always been fascinated by the French language: so soft, so beautiful.

I turned up at this language school in Oxford Street, just next to a hot dog kiosk and something else, eager to start learning!

I got there very early, so that I could get the best seat in the class room. Three rows back, near the window. That’s ALWAYS the best spot. In every classroom.

My soon-to-be classmates started to arrive, one by one, and they all seemed pretty nice people! Except for the lady who asked me to move my bag from the chair next to me, so that she could have the last seat left in the room: I pointed out to her (very quietly and respectfully) that, since my seat was right next to the window, there was no space for me to move any further and I always have to have my bag to my right, because I’m right-handed. She didn’t seem to understand this.. It might have been the pregnancy. Anyway, in the end a guy at the front offered to stand, so she could have his seat. It was very nice of him to help me out.

Finally, the teacher arrived and class started.

The teacher seemed really good! Boy, was I in for a surprise…

Right at the beginning, she said that she would speak to us only in French and that we would have to answer back in French too, but that there’s was nothing to worry about, because the questions would relate to the relevant section in the book that we had in front of us, where we would also find the right vocabulary to use. Straight away, I thought that method was great, and I was really looking forward to jumping right in! However, this is where it all went wrong.

As the questions came, I soon realised that, quite often, the right word to use for the answer looked very similar to the equivalent word in Italian (which is my first language). However, the pronunciation was different and quite difficult, actually… So, I decided to answer in Italian! It was easier and it just made more sense to me. Well, it didn’t go down well, did it? The teacher just wouldn’t understand my situation!! She kept asking me to answer in French..  to stick with my fellow students, ‘because learning is so much more effective as a collective effort’… That even if Italian and French were both languages, they were ‘different’ languages and I was there supposedly to learn French… And a whole load of other demeaning and humiliating abuse. She made me feel so small and inadeguate. It was awful. I had to leave there and then.

I didn’t even ask for my money back. I’m not that kind of person. And it was a coupon, anyway, so a hassle to retrieve, once put through the system.

I’m never going to a French class again. I’m sticking with Italian. English at a push.

I can’t believe some teachers can have such a big Ego.

October 2013

Fed Expressed

That’s right. This month’s FedExpressed was too hot for this newsletter.


Or maybe it was the humidity.

September 2013

There’s an Italian friend of mine (his nick-name’s Beaker, because of a particularly painful, yet highly entertaining accident, when we were at college) who started practising Bikram Yoga three years ago, in Italy. He loves it. He practises five times a week, religiously, often doing doubles. The other day, he was telling me how much he loves the heat and how he often complains, if he feels like the temperature is not high enough for him.

‘Your teachers must love you!’, I laughed.

‘I’m going out with one of them, actually.’ He replied.

There was a long pause.

If any contemporary American stand-up comedian had been there with us, he would have described that moment as ‘awkward’.

Provided he understood Italian.

But it was just me and my friend. No one else.

Luckily, my friend swiftly carried on with:

‘But that’s not surprising. I mean. Look at me.’

Bloody typical Italian man. I thought. Checking myself in the mirror nearby.

‘What I’m REALLY surprised about’ he reprised ‘is the fact that my tendonitis in my left elbow is still there! I mean, isn’t this yoga supposed to help that kind of thing? I’ve been doing it for three years, now!’

I was taken aback. I knew he’d always suffered from tendonitis, since his younger days as a semi-pro junior tennis player and I really hoped the yoga would help, at least alleviating it a bit.

‘Haven’t you noticed even a slight improvement?’

‘Nothing. As bad as it’s always been.’

‘Weird.. I’m sorry. I mean, Locust Pose is basically designed to heal those kind of injuries.’

‘Yeah, my teacher always says that.’

Did he mean in the bedroom? I refused to listen to myself.

‘Right.. You know, by bringing both arms underneath the body and compressing…’

‘But I never do that, anyway.’

‘Oh… You don’t?’

‘Of course not, it’s too painful!’

‘But have you tried even just lying on your arms, without lifting your legs?’

‘Yes I have, but when I lift my legs.. ‘

‘No, WITHOUT lifting your legs…’

‘Yes, but when I lift them, it’s too painful.’

I took a deep breath. Then:

‘How’s your tennis going, then?’

‘Great! Still play three, four times a week. Really hurts afterwards, though. I reckon I’ve been pushing myself too hard, recently… I think I’ll take a break from the yoga for a bit. You know. And go back to it when I’m better. What do you think?’

‘Makes sense.’ I said.

But it didn’t, you see.

It didn’t.


August 2013

Name one thing you improved in your last class. Say it outloud. Do it after every class.
That’s the direction of your journey.

July 2013

There are no good classes or bad classes. Only great classes.

You managed to do every single posture, working really hard?

Great, you strengthened your body.

You managed to do almost every posture, but you had to sit down a few times, feeling dizzy, and you find balancing difficult?

Great, you improved your stamina and took your practice to a new level.

You spent half the class thinking about the buses passing by on Chiswick High Road, constantly forcing yourself to bring your attention back into the room?

Great, you strengthened your mind.

You had to sit down after Pranayama and didn’t get up until the end of the class, feeling sick, with your mind screaming ‘GET OUT OF HERE NOW!!!!!!!’, but never leaving the room?

Great, you strengthened your Spirit.

Have a great class!

June 2013

If/when you practise with an injury, always work with mindfulness: but notice if you’re focusing on doing the yoga, being mindful of your injury, or you’re focusing on your injury, being mindful of doing the yoga.

May 2013

As our yoga practice evolves, we come to realise that there’s not much we can control in a Bikram class. We can’t control the heat. Or the humidity. Or the brightness. Or the length of the postures. Or the teacher. It can be quite frustrating, but that’s kind of the point. We’re obliged to try and cope with whatever ‘external reality’ – or is it just a dream – we have to face in the room.

With whatever circumstances we find ourselves in.

Leaving our frustration at the door.

The goal is to become more adaptable: to reach that point where we become virtually untouchable. It’s just us, our mind and our body. And our breath.


Because, of course, there is at least one thing we can control in a Bikram class: our breath. It takes time and practice to coach ourselves to breathe in and out through the nose, but that’s all part of the class. I’d say the most important part. Because when we do manage to control our mind and bring attention to our breath, our focus shifts inwardly, rather than outwardly. And we discover a place of acceptance. Which is constant. It never changes. And it’s always with us, because it belongs to us, or – perhaps – it is us.


And once we get there, there’s no need for us to look for the coolest or the hottest spot; for the first or third row; for the middle or the sides of the room. We can finally just do our yoga.


And we can give out a huge breath of relief. Through our nose.

April 2013


When I was just a little girl (I remember that like it was yesterday), I asked my mother what should I do in order to learn how to write, as I was getting a bit bored of talking and not being able to put down in words how wonderful life was back then.

My mum said to me: “Well, darling, why don’t you give it a go? Start with your name.” So she wrote it down for me and asked me to copy it as neatly as I could.

Quite excited at the prospect of being able to write in just a couple of hours, I started working straight away, pausing only to have a maccheroni cheese and change my own nappy. However, I soon found out that writing malaki was difficult stuff… The pen kept slipping from my grip, my eyes got a bit blurry from staring down at the piece of paper for so long and my hand would hurt by the sheer physical strain caused by calligraphy. Also, the outcome looked unintelligible: a series of confusing lines, which had no resemblance whatsoever to what my mum had beautifully penned.

Since it had been already half an hour, I asked my mum for help, explaining my situation. My mum asked me: “Have you been trying to write your full name, straight away?” “Yes.” I replied. So she said: “Why don’t you start with a letter at a time, or even just a part of a letter. Practise that several times, until you’ve got it nailed and then move on! Any time you feel tired and your hand starts aching, stop, have a break and then try again when you feel better. You’ll see that, gradually, your hand will grow stronger and you’ll be able to carry on working longer and longer.”


I pondered that. It definitely made sense, but it sounded like a lot of work and, also, a long long process.


So I ventured: “Is there anything else, from all that, that I could do?” “Well, yes…” she continued “Another way of doing it is forget about trying to write, just whistle really loudly for a couple of hours each day. Or perhaps go fishing.”


March 2013

The Unicorn

(from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

The Unicorn is a legendary animal from European folklore, that resembles a white horse with a large, pointed and spiralling legprotruding from its body, and sometimes a goat’s beard and cloven hooves. Unicorns are not found in Greek mythology, but rather in accounts of natural history, for Greek writers of natural history were convinced of the reality of the unicorn, which they located in India.
It was commonly described as an extremely wild woodland creature, a symbol of purity and grace,which could only be captured by a virgin.


February 2013

Something’s troubling me.I’ve just been told the blinds we’ve ordered for the yoga room, won’t be delivered for a while.This is a big problem for me.I really hope the sun will stop shining soon, so that I can resume my yoga practice.

January 2013

A New Year. Another great opportunity for change. If we want it. Or need it.


A good time to make some resolutions. Which last for a whole two weeks.


Why?? Why?!?!?!


Bikram yoga has taught me two very important things (amongst many):


1. Change does happen.

2. Sometimes, it can be bloody hard work.


It’s funny how easy it is for us to accept that our body has changed for the worse and, yet, so hard to believe it can change again for the better. This is the first realisation we have to come to terms with. And it’s sometimes counterintuitive, as, unfortunately, we’re so used to hearing people say to us:


‘No. You will never be able to do that.’


But it’s nonsense.


If you have a moment, have a look at this and prepare to be amazed:



I truly believe we could ask our body to do anything and, if we kept at it, it would eventually do it. One of the lines of the Dialogue for Triangle Pose says: ‘You’re going to touch the ceiling pretty soon’, referring to how much we should stretch our ‘right arm’ up. And I personally believe that – depending on what your idea of ‘pretty soon’ is… – we would eventually touch it, if given unlimited time and the will to persevere.


But it’s going to take a lot of effort. And patience. And sometimes it’s going to hurt (remember: never ‘no pain, no gain’, rather ‘ no stretching or compressing discomfort or ache…no gain’).


But it’s ok. Because that’s the way it’s supposed to be. It means you’re already changing. It means you’re learning something new and that’s already worth the labour.


On the final week of my teacher training, somebody asked Bikram:


‘Boss, can you explain to us exactly what the benefits are of locking the knee?’


Bikram was silent. He scanned the room with wide, incredulous eyes for a few seconds, then replied:


‘Benefits? Benefits?!?!?! What benefits?!?! JUST LOCK THE F******G KNEE!!!’


If I had heard that reply before going to training, I would have been appalled by it. But spending nine weeks with the man had the effect of basically installing a Google Translate directly into my brain: I understood exactly what he meant.


Here’s the official translation:


‘My dear child, there are so many physical and medical benefits to locking the knee, it would take me a week to list them all to you and we’re supposed to be finished by tomorrow afternoon. But it’s ok, because you have a lifetime to discover them in first person and, also, you’ll meet plenty of other teachers who will be more than happy to help you in your journey. However, realise this: locking the knee is the most difficult thing (after listening) that I ask my students to do in my class. If you can do that, the main benefit is….that you can do it. You’ve overcome your obstacle. You’ve won against the odds. And, even more importantly, you’ve learned how to do something that you couldn’t do before. Now let’s watch Hrithik Roshan’s latest movie.’


I know, right? What a guy. And Bikram is not too bad either.



December 2012


10 years of BYC, then. Wow. Time flies in Bikram’s ‘Torture Chamber’.

I’ve been lucky enough to be part of this wonderful studio from very early on. Not from the beginning, mind you. I started my yoga practice on 1st October 2003. Almost exactly a year after the studio had opened.

It took Kat 4 months to convince me to go with her (she had started in June):
– Fed, it’s amazing. I’m sure you’ll love it. It’s nothing like any other form of exercise!

– Yes.. But I really don’t think it’s for me, Kat. I’ll stick with the gym. I don’t want to be healthy, I want to look good!

– What does that even mean??

– It made more sense in my head.
And I guess it did, at the time. I had this idea that our bodies are very much like a house: it doesn’t matter how bad the interior is, from the outside, the building can still look beautiful. Nonsense, of course, because if a house is neglected from the inside, it will ‘eventually, or in the future’ inevitably collapse.  You might say I was foolish. I say I was Italian.

And so it was only thanks to my wife’s perseverance and a very tempting introductory offer (£10 for 10 consecutive days. Oh, how times have changed!), that I decided to give it a go.


I remember only a few details of my first class: me arriving at the studio, feeling like I had entered a really weird place, where everybody seemed to be inexplicably happy; Kat setting the mats down for us (in the front row…!! I guess it was payback time, for all those weeks spent trying to convince me to go.) and the mirrors. I had never looked at myself for such a long time. And, as class started and I began to sweat profusely, drenching my slightly-too-tight-for-comfort grey vest, I kept looking at my face (now the colour of a ripe pomodoro) and I noticed that I too looked happy… Definitely not the ‘Oh, yes!! I’m having the time of my life!!’ kind of happy, but more like: ‘I’ve got no idea what I’m doing, this is madness.. But.. I’m doing it!’. Kat was right: whatever it was that I was doing, it was something out of the ordinary. And I could ‘feel’ it was already working.


After class, in the changing rooms, I looked at myself in the mirror again: I was still Italian, just a bit more dishevelled. But my eyes looked whiter, clearer and my skin had a definite glow.  And I felt great. I realised, there and then, that I had just started tidying up my ‘house’.

November 2012



I have to be honest with you, guys.
I find it really hard to practise in the middle of the room: it gets very very hot.
I also find it really hard to practise near the window: when the teacher leaves the lights on, it’s very very bright.
I find it really hard to practise near the door too: quite often there’s a draft coming from outside and the speakers are so loud.
And sometimes the front row is so packed, I feel like there’s not enough space.
And in the middle row, I feel so claustrophobic, having people in front and behind me.
And in the back row, sometimes, I can hardly see myself.
Still looking for the ‘perfect spot’ in the room.
I’ll keep searching for it.
Moving my mat around.
In my mind.

October 2012


So.. Here I am again! It seems not enough complaints were filed in last month..
Gotta try harder, guys.
26 + 2
Magic formula.
Every class.
Every single class.
Gets a bit boring..
Well, does it?
The term we tend to use, when we talk about exercising doing Yoga, is ‘practice’. It’s a beautiful word. I love it. It encapsulates the concept of ‘trying’ like no other word. We’re not in the class to show what we can do, we’re there to achieve what we can’t do. And the only way to do that is to try. However, in my opinion, the word ‘practice’ also carries the concept of ‘repetition': we’re doing (or trying to do) something over and over again. That’s the only way to learn how to do it. And it could be anything: a sport, how to play an instrument, a yoga posture.
A triple jumper has to practise his run-up and jump millions of times. In fact, you can see them rehearsing it in their mind, with some very minimal movements, moments before the actual jump: to remind the body of the exact motions it has to follow, in order to deliver at its best.
A pianist preparing for a concert has to rehearse his piece just as many times, smoothing any tricky bits by going over them constantly, in exactly the same way, in order to create muscle memory.
Neither of them wakes up one morning and decides to change the execution.
Bikram believes our yoga practice should be the same. If the structure of the class doesn’t change, the only thing that will change is us. With time and… You guessed it: practice. There’s always somewhere to go, something new to achieve. And once that’s achieved, then comes the hardest bit: maintaining it.
The difference is that a yogi/yogini’s goal won’t be to win a medal or an award*: it’s his/her own evolution and, ultimately, self-realisation.
Every class is a chance for us to try again: don’t get frustrated, don’t get discouraged.
Bikram gave you the structure: rely on it.
You put in the effort: trust in your own brilliance.
And most importantly: enjoy the ride.

* However, there is indeed a yearly World Yoga competition, which can be incredibly inspiring, and that might well be one of your goals! But don’t stop there. Be bolder.

September 2012


So, Helen, the wonderful owner of that magical place that’s Bikram Chiswick, has asked me to write a little something for the newsletter in the months to come. Don’t worry. If you complain enough, I’m sure she’ll ask me to stop right away.
To tell you the truth, at first I was a bit surprised to be asked, as I don’t know much about Yoga. I told her and, instead of a philosophical answer like: “Ah, but you know that you don’t know!”, I got: “If I asked anybody else, I’d have to pay them extra for it: you can do it during your regular billable hours.” Point taken.
Here I am, then!
I think the first thing I should clarify is what we’re doing here at BYC. Yes, we’re doing Bikram Yoga, of course (although ‘Yoga you don’t do, Yoga you try!’, as Bikram says), but maybe I should specify what kind of Yoga: Hatha Yoga. Which is the physical branch of yoga, consisting of ‘Asanas’, or ‘Postures’. This means that all those different kinds of Yoga which involve Asanas are Hatha Yoga, regardless of the name they might be sporting (Ashtanga, Power, Flow, Jivamukti, etc..).
We call the yoga we do here at BYC Bikram Yoga, because of the specific series of postures we perform in every class.
Bikram’s guru, Bishnu Ghosh, and his brother, Paramahansa Yogananda (author of the seminal book ‘Autobiography Of A Yogi’ and founder of the Self-Realization Fellowship) used to heal patients, who would come to them with all sorts of different ailments, by prescribing specific Asanas, in order to target a specific need. However, their dream was to create a series of Asanas that could benefit everybody, healing and preventing any type of ailment. After years of research and study, from all the hundreds of different postures belonging to the Yoga tradition, they came up with a series of 84 postures + 2 breathing exercises, which could work the entire body (‘inside out, bone to skin, fingertips to toes’) and guarantee perfect health.
This 84 posture series is what’s now called the ‘Advanced Series’.
However, Bikram thought this series had two issues:
1. It was extremely difficult, therefore not accessible to everybody.
2. It took over two hours to be performed and not many people can dedicate that much time to heal themselves!
So he decided to compile another, simpler and shorter series, drawing from the Advanced, which could still thoroughly work the entire body, albeit not as intensely. That’s how the Beginners Series was born: 26 postures + 2 breathing exercises. A total body workout, from the inside out and the outside in, done in 90 minutes. And he was ‘so proud of it, he put his naaame on it!’.
Now, even though Bikram called it ‘Beginners Series’, it doesn’t mean it’s easy! Bikram himself says that people in the West (where Hatha yoga is not practised from the age of 3) should stick with the Beginners series for at least 40 or 50 years..!
Not long to go, then.