“Penelope!? … Penelope!? … Penelope …!?”
I am changing my son diapers, calling my wife to come help me : I am running out of cotton. I have baby poo all over my hands, but I have a more serious problem: I can not seem to stop saying her name. Like a broken record I repeat the 4 syllables in a loop. I. Cannot. Stop. It.
“Penelope!? … Penelope!? … Penelope …!?”
An unspeakable anguish fills me up immediately. Continue reading “How Yoga got me”