SLOW NEWS DAY
Today I practiced sandwiched between Vance-from-Berkeley and Guy-from-NYC; behind me was Peter-from-New Zealand and in front of me was Rolf-from-who-knows-where -- all fairly well-known yoga teachers. Even Lino, whom I adore, was nearby.
The energy was good.
My breathing was excellent.
My dristi (gazing point/s) was also fairly focused -- although I did notice that Saraswati was wearing a white kurta (top) featuring tiny clowns dancing on elephants.
But my dropbacks were more like swimming frantically towards shore than floating.
This morning on the way to class I noticed that the dupatta (long scarf) worn by a woman on the back of a scooter was lopsided, and that the long end could easily get tangled in the rear wheel.
I pulled up beside her and honked and pointed wildly towards my neck and drew my hand back towards my rear wheel, and then gestured towards her neck. Then I hit the gas and pulled ahead.
A few seconds later I saw her in the sideview mirror, rearranging her dupatta.
It seems to me that people here tend to look after each other in certain ways; they are always telling me when I forget to turn off my headlight (which is often). Last year the boys at the Kaveri Lodge would notice that I left the key in the lock for the scooter's trunk and bring it to me. One time, they even re-locked the door to my room when my own padlock fell off. The Three Sisters always had advice when something went wrong, the coconut and flower sellers made sure I parked and locked my scooter properly; even the newspaper seller noticed when I didn't show up for a few days.
Having been raised by wolves, I was not used to being looked after like that.
Last year, in many ways, I felt like I got re-parented here.
This year, I feel like I can bring some of what I've learned back home with me.
Now that's yoga.
Photo = online image of a woman holding a dupatta. Because her top is short, it's almost more of a kurta than a kameez.