thought Anna, as she slowed for the Services. I was a Catholic Princess. Like Cinderella in the fairy tale, elle s’estoit bien. I was brought up by my Spanish-nostalgic grandma and French-Enlightenment-nostalgic nuns and my Socialism-nostalgic mother to believe that I had the power and the duty to make everybody around me both happy and good. They’d given me the technology. I could do it; so I must. I wanted to be like that. It was an ideal I embraced, though it didn’t come naturally to me. Was I helplessly driven by my innately caring, non-competitive female genes when I gave up my doctorate? I don’t think so. Would Albert Einstein have made that decision? Of course not: ask Mrs Einstein. But there are men, first-class men in science, who have failed to be ruthless. Where does that leave us? Dominant people behave dominantly. Talent without dominance is a fish on a bicycle.Ah, the memory of that summer morning. I was too stiff to do good yoga first thing, but it was the only slot in my packed schedule: paschimottanasana, the western stretch (the back is the western part of your body) leaning forward gently over my outstretched legs, face lowered toward my knees, hey, where are you little fish, where are you hiding?
