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Show Inside Out, 73 Grandma West-she was so many thousands of miles away, and there was no way to cut the space shorter. All those miles had to be driven through. "No way out but through," as Mom used to say. My life stretched out in front of me, up and down hills, for miles and miles until I could see her again. Sometimes I would think about all that time ahead of me and I couldn't catch my breath. I would pant and pant, and Jaycee would come and put her hand on my back and talk to me about breathing slowly. Yoga had probably saved my life. The shutting off of my brain and feeling my way through long, slow movements helped me to shut off my thoughts long enough to feel my way through the minutes, and then the days and then the weeks. And even though it had been four years now, I still felt like I was only just learning about yoga. I didn't have money to pay for a class so that I could learn from a real yogi, but I had read several books about it and watched videos from the library. I didn't use videos very often, though. It was better to do it on my own. This morning I took my time, holding my poses extra long, melting into the air around me. When I was done and feeling warm all over, I sat with my legs crossed and thought. I wondered what it would be like to be Mom now, or Joseph, without a body to feel warm in. Could they feel stuff? Did they remember what breath felt like? How did they move around? What did they do all day? Could they see me? That was kind of a creepy thought. Are there dead people all around us watching everything we do? Like when we pick our noses and stuff? Joseph had said he could go only where he had a strong tie. So maybe Mom was around me here sometimes. But what about other people who had lived in this house before us? |