I’m sitting at work perusing through the various yoga centre sites because I just cannot get myself to go to yoga if it isn’t in my area. There is a centre that is on my way home a co-worker of mine has reccommended but the class times are so awkward. I wish the Yoga Sanctuary wasn’t totally out of the way. I spend more time reading about yoga than actually doing it. Many years ago I used to go to class three times a week and even do it on my own constantly. Weeks will go by without me even getting into one pose, but then a week will bring me to practice every day. Being high makes for wonderful yoga and helps deepen my poses. I can relax and focus on the stillness in my mind. Last night lacked the stillness, with my mind racing on the words of my book, of what I want to write, what I should censor, about him, about me, about my family, about the interactions – What is the truth in it all? His soft lips licking mine, his soft fingers circling around my nipples, pushing my tight ovulating breasts up couldn’t break through it. Where am I?
This has never happened before.
