Ever more often, I find myself looking at my Motovun enemies with benevolence bordering on clemency. “Nesciunt quid faciunt,” I remind myself. On such occasions, I rejoice in my own liberation, too. “Nescio quid faciam,” I admit benevolently. From time to time, I sprout a smile at such luxurious thoughts. But the first two limbs of yoga are always on my mind. The doors to the world of my dreams.