Got up at the crack of dawn on Saturday to catch our 6 a.m. flight to Cancun. When we arrived at the airport, Ali was there, my best friend's wife, daughter and mother-in-law and another girl clearly going to a yoga workshop (it's hard to miss those Manduka mats). When we got to L.A. we wound up with another few workshop attendees on the plane. The Daughter was awesome on the flight... such a good traveler... things were great... and then our bags were gone. All 3 of them. Apparently, they never got on the plane from San Diego and, as a result, the got here by way of Cancun.... a day late. It wasn't so bad except that I had no practice clothes. Thankfully Ashtangis are sweet and no one had a problem sharing clothes with me.

Which brings us to practice this morning... it rocked. I can't say I remember anything about it physically... what I can say is that I completely tore apart during savasana. No tears... just this silent, absolute encompassing, break down... a pure, empty moment of bliss.

There's lots of San Diegans here this year. Lots of people who are new to ashtanga... a New York crew. The Daughter is doing great... she loves it (probably because A has ALL the tricks up her sleeve for kids). I've checked my email and, granted, it's Sunday but all things are quiet on the western front... it's warm, just the right humidity... the food is good, the people rock... I love Tulum.

Without my baggage, no pictures today..but I expect to be able to upload some soon. Chow.