Before I walk to the central bus station in the Croatian capital, I reserve an hour for myself. While she is in her office, I sit in my beloved’s apartment all alone and twirl two pairs of chi-gong balls. The larger wooden ones are in my right hand, and the smaller jade ones are in my left hand. I am reclining in one of the two Barcelona chairs by Mies van der Rohe. My legs are propped up on a leg rest of the same design. Staring at my feet in front of me, I wipe my mind of all thought. My socks are black, which helps a great deal. As I am twirling the balls, I keep staring. Although the faint grind of the balls reaches my ears, not a single thought shapes in my mind. I am in perfect shape. My mind is still. By and by, I am getting ready for my trip to Motovun. Already packed, my knapsack is waiting by the apartment door. My windbreaker is draped over it. The nomadic yogi at quick rest.