photo credit: http://www.kalibhakti.com/
My morning got off to an unexpected start as my yoga instructor decided to channel the Hindu goddess Kali in class. She started out giving passionate, gory descriptions of a furious, fierce, blood-drinking woman wearing necklaces of skulls and a skirt of disembodied arms. The wakefulness and rapidity of the voice she used to describe the goddess didn’t fit with how I usually think of yoga; a quiet, meditative practice with candles and dark. All this everlasting hunger for blood and guts and digesting all the gory demons seemed more fitting for, perhaps, evening yoga. While most of my professional life included a large amount of blood and body fluids in some regard, I worried for any soft-stomached or vegetarian yogis who don’t often confront blood and flesh-tearing hunger stories. The ride into work followed the mythical morning. A misty, foggy nearly full (just 2 days after) moon illuminated the dark sky, making what is usually a black canopy around me a…brighter black canopy. My racing mind (and not so racing pedal feet) brought up visions of werewolves and all the hungry, hungry things we think up to scare each other with.
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