I went to a Tibetan yoga all-day workshop. Tibetan yoga is very simple. It would be hilariously so if it didn’t hurt as much. For the first hour we stood and very slowly raised our hands — as slowly as a satellite seen from the earth on a starry night, was the advice given — from down by our sides until they met above our heads. For the second hour we lowered them back down again to their starting point. After a frugal lunch we stood and swung our heads in a fast tempo from left to right and back, and for the final hour we nodded them up and down. Then we went home.
When I got home, the grandson was there clamouring to be entertained, so I took him out for a stroll along the promenade to see what we could see. As we looked right and left, my head swivelled easily on every plane, like a chameleon’s.
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