You can squeeze your yoga practice in just about anytime, anywhere.
While recently in downtown Toronto - on another one of our random adventures - my travel companion, Ash, and I, ducked off the busy, sweltering sidewalks of my old stomping grounds and youth, and grabbed a cooler patch of shady grass in a corner park at Queen and University Streets.
I kicked off my shoes, spread my toes in the grass and breathed deeply; then flowed through a couple of tension-busting, vision-widening sun salutations and warriors, balances, backbends and inversions, soaking in the hustle and bustle of cosmopolitan life from a center of dynamic and joyful stillness.
Your yoga is like that crumpled wallet-sized photo of a loved one you carry around with you. It's a passport to far-far-away and right-back-home; your daily sunscreen that protects you during prolonged exposure; your reusable bottled water and portable iDevice to keep you connected. You can't actually leave home without it!
Hmmm, wonder where I'll catch the yog bug next ...
(It didn't take long!!)
This is what I call 'tactile travel and tourism.' Yoga is such a great way to see - and be in - the world.
|In a courtyard corridor on the U of T campus. The architecture |
inspired a walk down the wall and into Full Wheel.
|In front of a serene statue somewhere on King St, I think.|
(Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery).
|On a scorching black marble bench in front of the Royal Ontario|
Museum, on our way to see the Egyptian mummies. Ouchy!
A bientôt! Hasta asana! ("Until the next pose" en Espagnol!)