All I want to do is go stand in an invisible corner somewhere and scream and rip off my clothes and scream some more and beat the ground with my fists and make clouds of dust everywhere to hide my naked body. And let down my hair in a barbaric yawp.
-My Journal, 8/28/2008
I wanted to do something nice for my body, to tell it I’m sorry for always covering it like some shameful thing, to show it that it is Egpyt, and not me, who thinks it should be hidden. So I have taken to doing naked yoga in my apartment in the company of closed windows and candles. The closest thing I’ve found to a yoga mat is a prayer rug. Today, when I got to Shavasana (literally, “corpse pose,” where you lie on your back for a full body relaxation at the end of your practice), I heard a slamming sound and felt the room suddenly fill with light. At first I was excited. Light, beautiful light! A moment later, I realized that the wind had thrust my balcony doors wide open to reveal me lying naked on a prayer rug. Thank you, Egypt.
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