After a week long trek up and down Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, I came home with a skip in my heart. That is literally what it felt like. My heart and lungs had undergone so much strain at the top of the oxygen deprived summit that sometimes it would beat irregularly. I knew when my breath was controlled, my heart knew to follow . So I started going to yoga. At first once a week, then twice a week. Working on my breath evened out my heartbeat.
Then I moved to LA and practice twice a week became a Teacher Training, which became teaching and practicing full force in 2013. Then my yoga arched. My practice began to get stale and I quit teaching. My direction in life is foggy right now, but still at least once a week I show up on my mat thanks to an amazing group of girlfriends. In all my experiences of struggle and sorrow, yoga has been my rock. Practicing brings clarity to my mind, strength to my body, and calm to my heart. In the movement I feel entirely and utterly connected to myself, and right now that is my truth.