It’s been a while since I did yoga. I keep telling myself that I am going to get up early and do it in the morning, but by the time my last alarm goes off (my first is at 6:15 a.m. and my last is at 8:30 a.m.) I have just enough time to eat and shower. I need to stop kidding myself. Midnight is a much better time for yoga.
It begins with me collecting my mat and unrolling it outwards on the patch of stained carpet near the door of my room. This space was so recently covered by dirty clothes and unwashed containers. They have now been dealt with and it is marked off as a place of relaxation and physical activity. This act reminds me of Muslims unrolling prayer rugs. Taking whatever patch of ground they have and turning it into something sacred, special, apart from the rest of their day. It is no longer a patch of stained carpet, now it is something more. The mat allows you to take any space and transform it for as long as need be—in my case the length of a yoga DVD.
It is so convenient this thing that can so easily be stored and put aside. So transportable and yet so useful.