Some days, I walk into yoga class feeling like the Tin Woodsman from the Wizard of Oz because the Wicked Witch of Happenstance has rusted my hinges into place. Thankfully, with the first “om”, my jaw unlocks. With the first downward-facing dog, my hips and shoulders begin to open. A backbend, and I breathe. Ahhhhhhhhhh.
As my body is lubricated by asana, yogini Brooks playfully encourages my spirit to emerge and meet the others in the room, who are releasing their inner cowardly lion, scarecrow and Dorothy selves. Now that we are closer to our humanity, Brooks reads us a poem by Mary Oliver to remind us that we are all part of the bigger natural world. Brooks, the Good Witch of the Yoga Circle, reminds us there’s no place like home. In our bodies, there is a world.
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