I started practicing yoga ever so many years ago as a four year old. It was my grandfather who taught me the yoga skills he considered basic: the handstand, the plow, the lotus and the sun prayer. It has been a long journey since then, I actually wrote a novel about both my grandfather and his practice of yoga and what it represented for both of us. Far from resolving all conflict yoga lead me deeper into the heart of it – which by now I am sure is the only way to eventually find a way through. Yoga for me has been a source of insight as much as of pain and doubt and my relationship to yoga is still unresolved many years after my grandfather’s passing. Recently I have discontinued the practice of the plow because of alarming medical reports about the pose. I am however still intrigued by the practice after all these years and about the fact that you never “get it right”, you just continue your path stubbornly, gently, fiercely – depending on your own temperament.