As a general rule, when you enter a room, it’s good to know who you are there with – if you don’t, you may find yourself:

a) hostage

b) with serious boundary issues

c) in one of those group interview situations resembling Lord of the Flies

So, in case you are expecting something that this blog - Roomisn’t, here’s some disclosure:

I am not a yogi. 

I am a young, privileged, Western yoga practitioner. If a yogi spends an evening picking burnt raisins out of homemade granola and getting infuriated by cling film, then what on earth am I practising for? A yogi is focused, steadfast and without delusion. Right now, I am picking my split-ends and thinking about how Middle-lane motorway hogging could be better enforced. The true yogis of this world are not blogging, or, reading blogs (sorry to break it to you).

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