Every summer I run several times a week along the country roads that have known me since babyhood. I can read them with my eyes closed. I know where I have to dip my head to bypass low hanging branches and where I can count on a breeze from the …
a particular kind of worship
Chaturanga dandasana. Uttanasana. Tadasana. Savasana. My body has developed muscle memories and attached them to the rise and flow of these Sanskrit words. I bend and straighten, lift and lengthen in response. I don’t often look to the screen anymore – just the sound of the words and the rhythm …
