An unusual Monday night yoga class at my gym: my yoga teacher, Philip, who’s a good looking young Caucasian man with completely shaved head, crystal blue eyes and beautiful harmonious face, always reminds me of monks from the martial arts temples in the old Chinese movies.

Since he’s always very attuned to energy in the room… which he must be… the smooth-starting class ended up with everybody holding hands in a circle, then seated on their beaded keels, with left hands holding the next person’s left shoulder and right hands reaching out in the middle, touching and holding.

The floor plan became an open flower… I remembered I walked out of the room with exceedingly high energy; like water becoming holy water.