I found a secret place
where it’s easy to rewind;
I found a secret space
where I can clear my mind —
In the back of my apartment building, there’s a laundry room. Its stark white cement and cold, sterile tile (I use the term “sterile” lightly as it’s really in need of a good scrubbing) soak in blue light from the large window and sliding glass doors that make up the back wall.
Ok, so I might be exaggerating by calling myself a superhero, however I have had to deal with learning to control my superpower since I was a kid. And, as wonderful as it is at times, it has also been difficult for me. No, I’m not talking about being able to fly, become invisible, or even being particularly proficient at martial arts – at least not in the literal sense.
People that never did yoga are now, all of a sudden, all about it. People that, up until recently, poked fun at that “new-agey, grass-eating spiritual crap” now live by it. Yoga used to be this niche market where those of us that did it were so cool because we were so different from everyone else. Similar to the tattoo market, the fetish market, the drama kids and every other clique group you can think of, we identified with a small (and in our eyes) elite group of yogis that helped us to better define ourselves when, otherwise, we were lacking.
who we were
we weren’t —