Patanjali calls her a sheath. And I will admit that she looks Iike me, walks like me, though I rarely feel like THAT!
I reason with her that there is already time for an evening walk, on our way to our appointment. For a moment, I wonder if she is suggesting we go into the office!
No. She isn't.
Well. What could it be then? Is she confused?
She has her arms crossed over her chest now, frowning with consternation.
What, after all, is so bloody complicated about a morning walk?
Ah. I see. And I say, "yes" to her. And she jumps, skips and dances inside me. Pure joy.
"Your happiness is my happiness my love," I say. Though I rarely feel like THAT!
So hum. So hum. So hum, They say in Yoga class. I am that. I am that. I am that.
