YOGA

I know, it’s too long I do not write. I would like to update you on my Sociological Experiment, I would like to tell you about the horrific giant cockroaches that infest my home, I would like to take a few hours off to discover the lost corners of Hong Kong, like taking the ferry, leaving the island and go to read the future from Mong Kok’s fortune tellers. Instead, I spend all my time and all my energy in Yoga. So now I’m talking about it. Have patience, the heart cannot control. First and foremost, a premise that I have a heart to do after reading the comments and the atrocities on the various social media  as a result

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What Hands Are For

Yesterday morning I did a meditation lesson that was unusual.   We were lying down on the mat with the yoga block positioned behind our back, between the shoulder blades so the chest and the heart chakra is opened. We had to repeat the Mantra connected to this Chakra (IAM) continuously and concentrate the mind on the heart. For those who have never done meditation, this probably leaves you perplexed, some of you will even laugh. But when you are there, lying down with the eyes closed, following the warm and reassuring Master’s voice, letting yourself be cuddled from this continuous IIIIIAAAAMMMMM repeated from 10 different voices, letting the vibration pass from your lips to the throat and down to

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Hong Kong: The Playground

Sometimes I have to think, or have to stop thinking. My head produces thoughts, scenarios, images, stories. My head is pretty much a multiplex. So I choose a place, which becomes my place where I go to think, or stop thinking. I calm down, I mentally write speeches, seek solutions to problems, I put in order my mind, take decisions, sit down. Or just breathe. Enjoy the internal silence. As a kid I went to my parents camp on the lake, a camper village amidst the greenery. I crossed the net and climbed over the hill above the baths. I knew I could find a better, cleaner and not smelling place. But places, like people and moments you can’t choose

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Hong Kong: The Patience of Moms

Everyone says that patience is learned when you become a mom and that it evolves with the child’s age. It starts right away during the hours of labor torture. When doctors tell you to breathe and not to contract the belly, that eventually will pass, it’s just a couple of hours (or days for the less fortunate ones) that you are not dying, you are giving birth to a child. Then breathe, yell, think the worst things about your husband who did this to you, hate the midwife, turn off the light, switch on the light, walk, lie down, send to hell the nurse who try to let you drink a juice, but I recommend you, be patient. Than a

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