It's 6 am. A Cup of coffee, a warm fire, 2 pesky dogs, my yoga mat, and me sitting in the middle of all that. As I begin my routine of down dog to lunge, the dogs begin their stretches underneath, licking my nose. As I fold into pigeon, I fold into my mind, all the voices and highways of emotion and thought. Shhhh, I whisper, it's to early for all this chatter. Felling my body expand from my heart, I open into warrior 2, and adjust until I feel fully the quads working hard, in concert with the inner groins lengthening. As I gaze over my fingertips, the light from the fire lights up my skin, illuminating my hand, so that it looks as though my hand is made of light. I look at the other hand, darkness. Shucks. I think I'll look the other way, and smile at the beauty that is my hand, made of light and fire.
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