My journey to bliss
Until I embraced yoga, my education centred on cultivating my mind. If salvation was ever to come, it would come from the knowledge that I was building up there. It never dawned on me that some of the questions that made me most curious might find their answers in my body. Certainly there was nothing in the culture I grew up in to suggest that my body had a language of its own, which was my responsibility to develop.
Ten years ago I went to a doctor with lower back pain, triggered by months of renovating, and was sent off for a scan. As I lay in a scary MRI machine, I whiled away the time with negative fantasies of my body breaking down, bit by bit. Even being in a scanner seemed proof that my body was no longer to be trusted; it had passed its peak and was on the downhill run. This, thought, as I peeled off my plastic gown and scrunched it in a bin, was
