He sits on the end of the sofa with a warm blanket and foam boots to keep his ankles from hitting each other as his body uncontrollably shakes.
He watches every move I make. He cannot speak or move voluntarily.
He attempts to smile at my horrible jokes. I am certain on my bad hair days when I acknowledge that I just didn’t have time to deal with my hair, he is laughing.
While I teach the adaptive yoga class to the other residents, he watches every move I make.
When I hold his hand and we talk about how horrible the football season has been or the beautiful changing weather, his eyes stare into mine.
There is an inaudible language that is spoken. His eyes see and express so much.
This week as we were chatting, I mentioned that I believe the eyes see into the true spirit or a person.
Just then something amazing happened. Watch this…
Think Yoga is all about asana (postures) and touching your toes?