With my yoga teacher taking a summer break, and having been lazy to the point of words can’t describe, it seemed a good idea to have a home practice the other evening.
In theory this would take me about 30 mins. In practice, well not quite so long. There I was in my bedroom, mat out, dressed comfortably, breathing in and then breathing out. My eyes were closed, I was at peace readying myself, stretching my arms skyward, when THWACK, the back of my hand smashed against the handle of my cupboard. Thirty seconds in, that’s all it took, for the tranquility I’d been seeking to be shattered with a stream of choice words and, a throbbing hand clutched to my body. So much for reaching downward dog.
Suffice to say Yoga ended, mat was rolled up and I went to bed with a book.