The last time a Pope visited the UK was 28 years ago. Back then I was 8 years old and all 100 girls in my tiny Roman Catholic prep school got to have a morning off lessons to gather around the large wooden-framed television (back in the days of only 3 channels and no remote controls), to watch his arrival. This was followed by a “special” and even-longer-than-usual Mass in the Pope’s honour. I didn’t really care one way or the other about the Pope, it bored me, but it was marginally better than a morning of maths and handwriting lessons (yes we had handwriting lessons to make us write in a very specific way….but that’s another story).

Yesterday in a whirlwind of controversy (does anything ever happen anymore without a whirlwind of controversy?) the Pope arrived again, a different Pope admittedly, but a Pope nonetheless.  I tell you this not because I want to get into this very controversial debate (for anyone brought up in Catholicism – even the extremely liberal Catholicism that made up my formative years – it is an extremely emotionally charged issue not suitable for a blog of this nature), but instead to introduce the topic of ritual.

I would not call myself a practising Catholic by any means. Pa would call me a “fairweather Catholic” turning up to Mass as I do twice a year at Christmas and Easter for songs and celebration with no intention of putting up with the boring drudgery of the rest of the year. But when I do go I have a feeling of coming home – I still know the Mass off by heart, the smell of incense reminds me of messing about at the back of Chapel as a kid (I was not a child who took things very seriously), even the feeling of the Communion wafer stuck to the roof of my mouth brings back those memories of feeling oh-so-grown-up at my First Communion.

There is a ritual to it all and I think there is something innate and primal in every human being that is drawn to ritual, be it religious ceremony, kirtan or simply stepping on your yoga mat each morning.

My life is filled with ritual from the cup of warm lemon water I drink as soon as I open my eyes, to making my morning pot of coffee.  From the lighting of Nag Champa before my daily asana practice to my need to read for at least 10 minutes before I turn off the light at night, no matter how tired I am.

I believe that the ever increasing popularity of yoga in the West is, despite recent debate,  less about a toned butt, size 0 clothes and Madonna arms and more about this need for ritual in our lives.  I know that my love of ritual and the cultivation of it into my everyday life stems from the ritual of Mass in my childhood and that from this has come my commitment to yoga as a spiritual rather than physical practice.

Do you integrate ritual into your everyday?  How?

When I had my own studio space in London, this was the print I had on my wall.  No gurus, no pictures of overwhelmingly complex yoga postures, no certificates of achievement or charts of sanskrit and certainly no pictures of me (although that’s always good for a laugh).  Just John and a chakra print banner.

At first glance a strange choice for a yoga studio wall.  After all it’s Paul who is the militant vegetarian, George who was the meditator and yogi.  But for me it’s always been John.

I was six when Lennon was shot.  Old enough to realise what had happened and to remember seeing it on the news but too young to realise the impact it had on a lot of people.  Lennon was known for a lot of things, not all of them particularly positive but he has always struck me as a man desperately looking for peace, not just publicly in the world around him but privately within himself.

Whether he achieved this or not is debatable.  Depending on what or who you read or listen to he had depression, anorexia, anger management issues, mother issues all in a time long before anybody felt comfortable talking or admitting these things.  His quest for peace ended with a gunshot.  Oh the irony.

Regardless of what he may or may not have done, to me he is the ultimate modern-day philosopher-poet.  By having this print in my yoga studio I felt I bridged a gap between Classical Yoga and modern life by way of an idealist with very very human failings.  And a lot of students commented on it positively.

So today, the day before 11 September, I’m not going to tell you about where I was when the twin towers fell (mainly because I’m one of those people who doesn’t remember), I’m not going to philosophise about what that day meant or how it changed the world.  I’m just going to leave you with this.  From John.

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one

* I started blogging waaaay back in 2005 (that was several blogs ago).  I was blogging long before I read other blogs.  I guess I like the sound of my own voice.

* I started this blog on Blogger in early 2008 to put my thoughts about giving up law and teaching yoga full time into words.  It used to be called “The Highs and Lows of a Suburban Yogini” but that was a bit of a mouthful.

* I carried on blogging because I started getting comments!  EcoYogini and Green Spell were my first regular readers and for that I am eternally grateful.  Have you seen that scene in “Julie and Julia” where she gets her first comment?  Yeah, that was me!

* In June 2008 Nadine emailed me and interviewed me on her blog.  Through her I “met” Christine and Mary, through them I “met” Phil and Svasti, through Phil (I think?) I “met” Catherine and Stella and on and on like dominoes all in a line.  And every day I get new readers, new comments, new blogs to read (I also have less and less time to read them all but I try, I really do )

* Sometimes I actually get to meet bloggers in real life.

* There is a code of karma in the yoga blogging world.  We agree to disagree.  We don’t get into flame wars.

* There is a blogging synchronicity.  I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve written about a subject only to find somebody else writing about it moments afterwards.  Or moments before.  There is something special in these here internetz.

* Being a British yoga blogger does mean I’m never going to get the gajillion hits that some US  blogs do, but at I kind of like that.  It makes me feel special (go with me here!) and decreases the likelihood of trolls, spammers and the sorts of comments that would make me cry.

* Some of my favourite bloggers have appeared in my dreams.  Seriously.  Is that weird?  This may be a reason why I shouldn’t blog as often to be honest.

* But most of all I blog because if I didn’t I think my head might explode.

(I have used the word blog way too many times in this post.  It’s not even a word.  It should, really, have an apostrophe before it anyway.)

Why do you blog?

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In honour of all this here blogging, I thought I’d pose the questions that Ivy Black (and I cannot for the life of me remember where or how I found her blog) posted answers to yesterday.  I’d love to hear your answers dear readers.  If you partake, post me a link in the comments.

1) What is your favourite time of day?

Sunset.  I’m not a morning person at all (although on the rare occasions I am out and about in the very early morning I can appreciate why people love it so, I just love my bed more), and I’m not really a nightowl either (the joys of CFS!!), but I do like that in between moment as the sun slips down below the horizon and another day begins to end.

2) Where and when did you meet the love of your life?

Well that depends.  You can either read my story, or his story!

3) What three words would your friends outside the blogging world use to describe you?

Emotional, Imaginative, Loud

4) What country would you like to visit and why?

Finland.  I want to see the Northern Lights.  I want to have a sauna and roll in the snow.  But most of all I want to visit the Moomin museum!

5) What is your favourite dish to cook?

Pudding.  Any sort of pudding really.  But especially cake.  Cake is my speciality.

6) Salt or sweet?

Sweet.  Especially in its proper form of cake.

7) What are your must have make-up or beauty items?

Hair straighteners (without them I look like some sort of bog creature), mascara, Rouge Noir nail polish, lip gloss, Lush’s Karma cream and Karma solid perfume and almond oil for hair and cuticles.  Yeah, I’m pretty high maintenance.

8 ) What are your favourite flowers?

I love roses.  I love the fact that our garden is full of rose trees.  I love flowers in general really but only when they are growing in the ground.  Cut flowers make me sad.  Don’t buy them for me please.

9) What do you think are your worst vices, honestly?

Now that would be telling.  I have no vices, clearly.  I am a yoga teacher after all!  I do swear like a trooper but only in the privacy of my own home!

10) At what time of your life were you happiest and why?

Now, obviously.  It’s all we’ve got after all.