The Yoga Begins.

I bought a yoga mat, which is analagous to buying a uniform for a martial arts club -- it's a symbol of being committed to practice for at least a year. And so I'm making the disorienting transition from the violent world of Kuk Sool to the most pacifist physical exercise there is.

Frankly, I could do without the dim lighting, incense, visualization exercises, and naptime. And the Jiu Jitsu instructor here is very good, very dangerous man who leads serious, tough classes. But when I went to Jiu Jitsu, though I had a good time, I had to admit to myself at the end of the day that I just don't care about beating other people up. The value of martial arts for me has always been the feeling of well-being that comes from a good workout, aggressive stretching, and familiarity with the human body. And when I leave Yoga, I feel great, even if I'm not sweating very much. After being on a plateau for years with my flexibility doing Kuk Sool, I've already added at least an inch and a half to my hamstring stretch. Oh, and Yoga is mostly women. I never did date anyone I met in Kuk Sool.

Besides doing forms in the park, Kuk Sool does live on in at least one aspect of my life. You may be surprised to hear that with the help of Kuk Sool and Pavlov I've broken my long and odd habit of fluffing my eyebrows by attacking my own forearm pressure point every time I catch my hand wandering brow-ward.