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A little appetizer . . .
Within minutes of laying down my mat carefully on the cold cement floor at my teacher’s tiny studio in the back alleys of Varanasi, he walked right across it, leaving a foot-shaped trail of dust, dirt, and a healthy dose of dried up cow poop.
Here comes the ‘yogi in a cave’ voice – this time with a hint of desperation in her tone:
Just let it go.
We’re all One anyway, right?
Now you’re closer to Mother Nature.
None of these words of wisdom in the back of my head could stop me from sifting through my bag for the package of wet wipes I always keep on me in sanitation-challenged countries. “One” or not, do I really want poop on my face?