Eminé Rushton

The similarities were uncanny. As children, every morning, our alarms went off at the same time. We would wake ourselves up, get ourselves ready, pack our school bags, and make ourselves breakfast – likely a bowl of cereal with milk – and then we’d head off to school. Every. Single. School. Day. No arguments, no alternatives, no questions asked. Their mothers didn’t work. Nor did my mum.

A few years ago, I completed my Shakti Yoga Therapy for Women training with Uma Dinsmore-Tuli. It was a year-long learning journey with monthly held teaching sessions… which almost all the attendants absorbed from the comfort of their own beds.

I remember being a child, around nine or ten years old, watching an episode of something fantastical one evening, on TV. It was one of those series, like The Twilight Zone, where alternate realities play out in various thought-provoking or dystopian ways, serving as a morality-imbued wake-up call: ā€˜Perhaps the lives we presently live arenā€™t so bad after all?ā€™ In this episode, Death lost a bet and was subsequently banished from the Earth.