Last week someone said that when she arrived in class, her breath was stuck in the middle of her chest, and about halfway through the hour, it dropped down into her belly. This was spoken enthusiastically, with raised brows.
Surely this is one of yoga’s greatest gifts, to teach us to breathe again. It can remind us, in the midst of chaos, that all is well.
It can heat us, cool us, energize us, calm us. Typing these words, accompanied by pauses for breathing, I remember who I am. The aliveness within spreads out to the edge of my skin. It tingles.
All is well.