I don't like the wind, Jennifer Frye

     “I don’t like the wind,” I say, scowl-faced.“It’s because your Dosha is too firey,” a yoga friend offers gently.Hackles up.I feel like I’m beingpushed, forced, jostled in a crowd of no-one.The urgent rattle of shuttersdemands my attention.The slight opening of my window (an invitation for a fresh breeze)causes dust, things hidden to stirand be dealt with.I watch the seagulls being held, supportedso effortlessly hoveringwhile I fight against it.Let go,the body says.This too is a clearing. A reminder to lean ingently, and be carried to new, and unknown places. Jennifer Frye