My desire to indulge in some yoga came out after I witnessed the perfect family in India.

Perfect kids, perfect Mother. I concluded that this must surely be a result of partaking in either a) dancing around the full moon naked, b) drinking lots of wine or else 3) taking regular yoga classes.

I couldn’t do the first without being reported to the police by my teenagers, the second was proving impossible in India and so that left the yoga.

Something I’ve been threatening to do for years but have somehow always talked myself out of it.

After having just spent two weeks in Gokarna, where it seems that every woman and her soul mate is super chilled out and zenned up to their eyeballs, I decided that when we got to Rajasthan, I too would head to the yoga studio.

Like all of these other women.

Get me some of this super magic bendy body mind power that these Mother Earth women are raving about. Then I would surely be perfect and kind, and my kids might decide that they hate their phones and would stop asking me to buy them Nutella.

Why not I thought. Go for it, Liz. You’re never too old to try something new after all.

I first witnessed the perfect yoga family seated at the table next to us at the only decent restaurant in Gokarna.

The family, who had probably come from the Netherlands. They’re all weird and hippy-like from there.

The perfect family who had trekked across the desert and through a jungle with just a leather thong between their toes and a pendant around their necks containing Buddha’s eye to lead them.

To me.

In India.


And the kids and Brian.

Sitting next to us in the cramped, hot and hectic restaurant I could tell from the outset that they were a family who never argued. Or even talked loud. They just whispered. And if this family were to ever raise their voices above two decibels, it would be for a jolly good reason. It would be to preach about the goodness of being vegan or the benefits of bathing in Almond milk and cow wee.

The family that only see the beauty in the world and vegetables and untreated soil. And cowpats.

The family born in Tranquilum.

I wanted so much to be that family.


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