my yoga journey
They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. It's really unfortunate that Philip Larkin's words are echoing round in my head after a weekend with my parents! It seems super-ungrateful,... Continue Reading →
When I finished my practice this afternoon, I spent a while crouching with one knee pulled up trying to massage my hamstring while the muscle was warm. I pulled it a bit recently (my tip: go super gently if you're cold, dehydrated and jet lagged and feeling impatient to get over the tightness of long-haul-hips!),... Continue Reading →
My parents stayed for the weekend. I enjoyed treating them a bit and relaxing with those who know me in a special way. Conversations were mainly light and we had some good laughs, the generation gap not being stretched to breaking point. Sign of yogic flexibility off the mat perhaps!? Yesterday afternoon as my dad dozed... Continue Reading →
My mum is awesome. I reckon she invented the concept of unconditional love. She has always been my number one fan, even when she didn't quite get what I was up to or why it was important to me. She has been my rock through the years, the person I turned to for advice and... Continue Reading →
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