‘Come. Dance with me. Come. Dance with me.’ – Hafiz 

I signed up for vinyasa yoga last night and arrived in time for yin. I was disappointed because I wanted a stronger class that would give me more cardio flow, but yin turned out to be exactly what I needed. It involves holding fewer poses for longer periods of time, allowing the body to fully relax into a deeper stretch. It felt really good to stretch out my hips, glutes, and back.

In vinyasa, I find that I spend much of my time comparing myself to other people. Though I try not to, there are times when I can’t help feeling jealous or frustrated that other people can do things that I can’t. Last night in yin, the lights were off; in previous yin practices, teachers have stressed that every yin pose will look different on every single person. I found that I didn’t spend so much energy focusing on other people’s practices and I could devote my practice to my own healing and well-being which, I’m aware, is how every class should go, no matter the form of yoga.

A few hours after class, I had sex for the first time since the summer. There was an enormous difference between that time and the most recent time, and I can certainly chalk it up to practicing yoga consistently. Everything felt more fluid, comfortable, and easy. I love sex and I think it’s wonderful, but it’s often very stressful for me because of the stiffness and pain always present through my pelvis and legs. This time, there was no discomfort or pain, and I melted through it the way I melt through the last ten minutes of a yoga class: with a blissful buzz and a happy heart.

Everything clicked into place last night like puzzle pieces. Things happen the way they’re supposed to.


About Norah

writer. aspiring editor.
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