I had a yoga class this morning, after an entire summer in hiatus. I realize now what I would be like if I hadn't been practicing yoga at all these past nine years. Creeky. Stiff. Unwieldy.
Getting down on the mat, and focusing on that rectangle and my activity on it was liberating. I hadn't felt that sense of calm and centeredness in many months. It's a paradox to be in the body and working hard, and outside it, too.
We had an extended period of Shavasana; I almost felt that complete thoughtless, weightless point. Almost.
Bear's favorite napping spot, from which she can keep a regal eye over any proceedings in the backyard, and still beat a hasty retreat inside, should that white cat or some interfering dog happen by: