About ten years ago one of my yogini’s dearest friends died.  They were both 35. They’d shared a flat for some years and some mornings did a spot of yoga together before work.  So my yogini began a memorial practice – little knowing how wonderful, terrifying and life transforming it was going to be.

There are things she needs to say, but expressing her deep emotions is not her strong point, and so she has me for that, and for stopping her slithering about in sweaty downward dogs.  And if we cross paths or travel a while with you, so much the better.





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