Tonight I was in my yoga practice, which is generally a relaxing treat. But as we flowed from downward dog into plank, then lowered to crocodile, with my face just inches from the floor, I saw a spider coming right for me. We were hovering low, arms quivering from the weight of our ow bodies, waiting to be instructed to lower and flow into cobra.
Not wanting to break from the pose, I blew at the spider a couple of times. (Which probably made the class think I didn't understand the concept of ujjayi breathing!) It didn't even pause—completely undeterred, it continued to stalk my face. As it approached the edge of my mat, I finally wimpered, "Spider!" and everyone in the class laughed. I blew—hard—a few more times, then Britten came over and scooped him up, safely delivering him to the edge of the room.
Britten: my yoga instructor and my hero.
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