The word yoga makes a lot of people think of an exclusive club. Having to look a certain way.

But it’s really about clearing the junk out of your head. The stories. Even if only for an hour. Even if it’s a “fitness” style class. It just doesn’t matter. It’s all good.

Because at some point it will happen. You’ll feel it. And you’ll want less stuff. Feel more forgiving. And be OK with the times when you’re not, because it’s just a blip. You’ll get that meditation can be as simple as noticing your breath. In and out.

So in my classes (decidedly not fitness-style), yumshops, online programs, and retreats expect to feel comfortable in your own body exactly and as perfectly as it is right now.

Get out of your head, breathe, and feel your version of steadiness in the postures. You’ll be guided and welcomed to make the practice your own. {Because you know your body better than anyone else.}

No worries, no plans: Feel, challenge yourself just enough, and flow. Completely let go during a guided savasana (total relaxation) with the help of essential oils and light shoulder and neck massage. Continue your day with a sense of calm, balance, and relaxed state of alertness, ready to share that goodness with your family, friends, community, and world…or, just you today.

Where I’m Coming From

If you feel a sense of social responsibility, first of all keep working on yourself. Being peaceful yourself is the first step if you want to live in a peaceful universe. —Ram Dass

It has taken me until my forties to begin to understand, for real, that to have peace we must be peace. And to teach peace or wellness or strength in mind, body, and spirit…we must practice being yoga. Not with effort or ego. But every day, kind of like pressing the reset button, on the mat and especially—off the mat. Sometimes it’s the asanas or postures, or how we relate to one another, temper our reactions, nourish ourselves and our communities, and most noticeably how we deal with challenges and the tough stuff {think: temper tantrums, a nasty email, illnesses}. It’s the practice…the practice of trying not to try.

Just a few years ago, I was in a very different place. I cried in my car. A lot. Tears that wouldn’t have made sense to most people − “Does she know how lucky she is?!” Lots of shame in my bones.

But by outing the gremlins, as Brene Brown aptly names the shame feelings, by owning my story: I was free. Writing and this blog had a lot to do with it. Yoga, of course. My dear teachers, including husband Daniel and our children. Jennilee Toner. Mastin Kipp. Danielle LaPorte. Our dog Bodhi. Connection and heart.

I cry in my car even more now…for joy.

Cheers to a new season, always.