Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Yogi chronicles: The divine in me smells the funk in you

My Saturdays start with an 8:30am hatha yoga class. We warm up, on our own, then get into the practice...focusing on our breathing and intention. While we are getting to our "quiet place", our eyes are closed. Because I have a strong nose, I can smell what The Rock is cooking when someone is coming in after we start. The smells are usually pleasant...like fresh out of a dryer full of Bounty sheets.

But, there is one woman who is always late, coming in smelling like moth balls. I never smelled a dead body before. But I'm pretty sure the smell of moth balls is up there as one of the worst smells on earth. When she walks in, I have to refrain from saying "GAT DAMN!" and remained focused on my breathing and intention.

She needs to start showing up on time, dag nabbit!

K to the...

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