IN a few more days, I will be on my way home, on a plane to France. Contrary to what some of you may think, no matter how good of a yogi you are, you cannot levitate all the way to France. Even if you did, they are as short on traffic controllers as we are. One levitating yogi would wait hours behind all kinds of huge planes before being cleared for landing. Of course if previous flights were Boing 787 Airliners, you may find your wait to be cut short. Lately they have had a few problems that would make me not want to be on one. What if the weather is terrible and our levitating yogi has to stay perched up in the sky for a couple hours? Should our very wise levitating yogi have planned for a diaper like the astronauts wear? Is there a technic that will give you complete control over your bladder? I see some of you nodding and thinking, why land at an airport? It is illegal to avoid customs, and why would you want to take the risk of bringing
bed bugs, I mean mat bugs, into such a beautiful country?
Last time, I went home, I checked my mat in. There was no mat waiting for me at the airport in Paris. I thought I had lost MY mat. I am not sure if everyone who practices yoga is like that, but I love my yoga mat. It is mine. I know where my feet are going to land. I know the marks for my hands, I know its feeling. Losing a mat is terrible. Changing mats is hard enough, losing one is heart breaking. Fortunately, a few days after my arrival, I got a phone call from an unknown number. It was Delta Airlines asking me if I had lost a piece of luggage. Quick to answer, I said yes, almost wetting my shorts with relief. I asked them to send the mat home. I did not want to take another chance and had it delivered in France. I had already bought another mat anyway, cheap, already falling apart, but a mat. That mat was my summer fling. A mat I would be happy to leave behind, maybe for a future trip. Doing yoga at my parents’ house had turned out to be a trying experience. Do you really want to jump of floors that are over 200 years old and have a vaulted wine cellar underneath it? Do you want to jump on tiles that cannot be replaced? Think small farm, centuries old and you get the idea. It could have been an ashram. For years, my mother would get up 4:30 a.m. and start working on the animals. Now, she proudly says she wakes up around 5:30 and that there is no rush. Your father and I are lazy; we stay in bed until 6:10.
Yoga that summer was more about meditation, relaxation and peace. Why should my vacation be any different from somebody else’s vacation? Maybe this year will be no different.
By the way, researching levitation for the sake of making my trip cheaper, bummer, it turns out it was just a trick. I will have to pay for my return ticket.