downward dog

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Having spend some time reflecting, I had arrived at the conclusion that I had to change something about myself. So I looked up a class that I didn’t find too intimidating, then I packed a mat and a pair of sweatpants and hopped on a train to the city.

The snow had returned:

snow in Hanover

What followed were ninety minutes of downward dog and plank and cobra and happy baby and all the other good shit.

And then: exhilaration!

The people were right: yoga was indeed motherfucking awesome.

On my way back I missed a connecting train (the Deutsche Bahn apparently loves leaving passengers stranded at the most desolate places), so I decided to walk the rest of the way.

Five kilometers through the darkness and the cold, with hurting feet. It was sobering.

Only one time there was something by the roadside that touched me. It was a wooden cross with some candles, left there for a person who had lost their life on the road:

cross for a dead motorist

It reminded me of a grave I had seen in Turkmenistan many months before.



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