A lot of the time I can move through life in a bubble where I am surrounded by people that I know. I donÄôt necessarily know them well but there are familiar faces in the shops, the passers by, the parents at school.
Today, for some unknown reason, I am feeling very aware of the size of the city, the number of people, the cars, the hugeness of it all. And at the same time I feel really tall! It is a bizarre combination. It all feels out of kilter, as though I am emerging from a profound narcotic experience, which I am not, unless it has been brought on by too much cycling.
I get very fearful before flying. All manner of thoughts slip into my subconscious and wriggle when I am not fully aware that they are awake. I can find myself suddenly woken in the night and imagining awful things happening to my children. I know it is trauma based and attach no real energy to it, but still it unsettles me. It has started today.
So I am tall, the world is big, I fear the delights of Heathrow and fat policemen with very big guns at every turn, and I must start my yoga practice again to get through the next couple of weeks. It has fallen by the way since our return.
I also need to find a place locally where I can start a class. I have lots of workshops coming up, but nothing that it grounded and peaceful. Teaching at shows is like being a ringmaster for a group of people who want an experience, who want to be impressed. It is fun. I like it and I am good at it, but another experience that I love is building up the comfort of a regular class. I have heard that the space we were thinking of for a yoga Centre is turning into a gym. That would be wild; just cross the road for my class.
And then starting up the wheel of running classes. It has been a while. I have not missed the experience, but I am ready for it again. It is odd to be a yoga teacher and not to teach.