This morning I went to the park to practice yoga. I felt a bit shy: I am not a poser, I just like to stretch. But I ignored the glances of passers-by and enjoyed the soft, sunny grass beneath my feet, the cries of seagulls above my head and the sound of the breeze humming through the trees.
Living in a van means that you have to be more community spirited than usual. Things normally done behind closed doors need to be shared. I remember all those times I laughed at Asian people practicing Tai Chi and aerobics in crowded parks. But where else do they have to practice? Like me, a lot of them probably cannot stretch up into the air in their homes without banging into the ceiling. Of course, it is an Asian trait to shy away from solitary activities but I can understand that: it is strange exercising in a park alone. But maybe I just need to get over myself. Who cares if people laugh at me?
The library is my other haunt. Here I can charge up the battery on my laptop and of course borrow books so I don’t have to overload the van with things that I own. But why did I ever want to own books anyway? Books should be shared, not stuffed away on a dusty shelf!
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