It is July 31st, 2015. I am half way through my yoga teacher training with a queer feeling of being in midair. The same as in a long-haul, cross-continental flight: you’re crossing the ocean in the pitch-blackness of night, having your belly strapped in the leather seat of a flying metal box. Time and place blur away in the soft breaths of asleep passengers. You don’t belong to anywhere.
I guess this feeling signals the teacher training program’s effects. Our day includes pranayama – yogic breathing exercises – and meditation, philosophy, theory lesson, yoga asana practice. From 6AM to 8PM, every day except Sunday, in a 1 month duration.Read More