When you can’t do yoga


Our first morning in Ubud, Bali, the girls wanted to go to a yoga class, which I normally would love, but after breaking my hand couple years ago, Bikram yoga is the only kind I’m able to do.
So we were alone. After our breakfast was brought to us of fresh fruit and yogurt and bread and coffee and juice- served on the low table on our porch, with pillows for us to sit on, under a flowering tree and overlooking the small rice patty next to the hostile- we decided to visit the pool.
Gauthier and I walked down the stone path of steps to the private sanctuary of a pool. Beyond The pool was a tropical forest and River rushing by hundreds of feet below. The deep sense of incense wafted through the air, up from the small boxes of flower petals and fruit that were set out daily in worship and tradition. The morning was warm, the sun filtered through the leaves that shaded the perimeter of the pool. And the pool was cool and refreshing.
We swam and played like children, diving in, somersaulting into the water. We sat on the edge of the pool and kissed. Butterflies danced on the breeze. As the whole environment seemed like a dream I figured I could just go with it. I reached out my hand to welcome a butterfly upon it…
And down onto my out-reached finger landed a beautiful blue butterfly.
This moment is burned into my memory. A thousand words could not tell of the magic. I was humbled by this blessing. This gift.
I will return to this pool in Ubud, Bali- if only to remember the time I couldn’t do yoga.


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