My Yoga is Feminist
Sixteen years ago, I walked into a yoga studio for the first time. I carried with me, a mat I borrowed from my mom, and
Sixteen years ago, I walked into a yoga studio for the first time. I carried with me, a mat I borrowed from my mom, and
I returned home from Afghanistan, in 2011. Struggling to cope with what had transpired over the last 365 days, I found my solitude within drinking
The morning dawns slowly, darkly, and tiredly. The alarm rings several times before I finally find enough energy to shift and moan, peeking up over
I’ve come to realize, in my many years of practicing, that yoga is hard. Yoga is an incredible commitment. And yet—and yet—it’s worth it.
Imagine there is a pipe or channel that transfers water – and it is your only water source. Then one day, this channel ends up