As another yoga day passed and I watched our politicians get into what they think are complicated yoga poses — one cartoonist had them with their head in the sand which seems to be their natural pose — I examined my own relationship with the ancient art.
For years I was a yogagnostic — someone who didn’t believe in yoga or cared if yoga were useful or not, and now I am a yogaddict, likely to strike strange poses while speaking to friends. When did this happen, and more importantly, why did this happen?
I had a friend who could, with a smile on his face, stand on his head and do the splits (not both at the same time, though), and another who could slap the palm of his hand held straight over his head with his foot. Where are they now, I wonder? I suspect it was these two people who put me off yoga. I mean, what they did was dramatic and all that, but I knew there was no way I would ever be able to do those things, so why even try?
