“I look up and see the gaping chasm of someone’s arsehole.”
“Imagine everyone in the room is naked!” That’s the advice you’re given when you’re nervous. And in cases of severe nerves, I’ve been advised to imagine everyone naked on the toilet. I’ve purposely disregarded this advice, as I can’t imagine anything I’d less like to picture. But today, this unappetising image has been made manifest in the flesh, as I’m opposite a naked man, who looks as if he’s doing a difficult poo.
I am at a Naked Yoga class in Clapham and we are currently in Chair Pose. As the name suggests, you squat like you’re about to sit back on a chair, and this man in my eye-line is struggling, his face distorted as he strains. I feel I’ve had an unsolicited insight into a private battle he’s having with his bowels, and I resolve to always eat enough fibre.