While I was in Houston, I started going to Yoga classes with the two refugee moms - I and E - who lived close by. At home this week in New Orleans I had a dream that I was standing with E, fully dressed in a winter coat and high-heeled boots, and I all of a sudden leaned over and I was able to touch my palms to the floor. "Look, E!" I said. "Easy." When I woke up I still had the feeling of being able to touch my toes, which was so great, but when I tried, the dream broke. Drat. I had to bend my knees and even hobbled over there's still a ways to go before I reach the floor.

I did not know this: it's not your tight hamstrings that keep you from being able to bend over and rest your chest on your thighs, it's your weak-assed quads and hips that have been not-exercising for the last couple of years. When the back of the leg trusts the front of the leg, the back of the leg lets go. Strength. Trust. Balance. Ain't nothing balanced about my muscle groups right now, but I'm going to start classes with I and E at a New Orleans Yoga place, and sometime in 2006 I'll have news of a wide-awake toe-touch.