A few years ago I thought yoga was something young, slender things did that required flexibility and the ability to contort their bodies into various weird, but completely unpractical poses. After all, what useful application was there in being able to stand on one leg muttering ‘Om’ and pretending to be a lotus flower? I couldn’t even touch my toes…so what good was I, a 50-something menopausal mother, going to be?
It was a desire to find something I could share with my then-teenage daughter which initially set me on the yoga path but even that would, like many good intentions, have floundered if we had not happened upon our wonderful yoga teacher.