Direction
/Any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me. ~ Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen
We were on our mats in a twisting flow at yoga. We’d already twisted in one direction, flowed some more in another and were about to twist in the other. I bent my knees, lowered my hips and placed my hands in prayer at my heart. I readied myself ahead of the instructions and started twisting to the right.
“Twist to the right!” the instructor said.
The class balked. Having already twisted earlier in that direction, everyone had known to go left, except for me. That previous turn wasn’t even in my memory!
“I’m sorry!” the instructor said. “I was watching Anne!”
I’ve been plagued with a questionable sense of direction from the time I can remember. In fact, one of my first memories is that of being lost, back when my sister and I would walk together to Hebrew school.
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