I've probably said this before, but I'll say it again: yoga is a process of continually letting go. Letting go of opinions about yourself, letting go of physical gripping, letting go of memories of your last yoga class, letting go of the chatter in the head.

It never fails: I will be miserable about something, and I will make the decision to pay attention to my breath or the physical sensations of a posture, and within minutes, I will no longer be miserable. Sometimes whatever it was that I was upset about will have completely dissolved, or other times it's still there, but I can deal with it from a more compassionate and level-headed stance.

That's why I keep coming back.

Enjoyed the time-honored female reward of a pedicure today. The ritual of it fascinates me, as does the complexity of the relationships: between me and the nail-ladies, me and the other customers, the nail-ladies amongst themselves. Do the nail-ladies like their jobs? Their customers? Does their deference mask contempt for their clientele? Are there weird political maneuvers amongst the workers? There is something kind of tawdry about it. I always go to one of the cheap joints in my neighborhood (there are scads of them), and feel like I am in a whore-house for feet.