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I started yoga in 1975 by accident. A friend of mine, a guy named Danny, injured himself paying soccer. His mother said to him that he should do some yoga for his bad knee. I happened to be in the kitchen at the time she said this. We both went to the yoga class. Danny walked out and never did yoga again. I walked out and it changed my life.
From that very first class, it was very clear to me that I’d had a very, very significant experience. I was 15 at the time and my mother had died when I was 13. Looking back, for those two years post her death, I was distressed and I couldn’t make sense of the world.
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