A permanent tension headache and ever-growing sense of failure landed me on a yoga mat.  I wanted to “get zen” and manage my Excedrin intake.  My first yoga class was a sweaty, cranky mess.  I was not zen and my head was the least of my pains when I left.  I barely made it through. 

But I came back.  Again and again.  Yoga did not save me from myself or the big, hard world.  But it did carve out a space – a place, a way of being with myself – that allowed me the room to be with the sweaty cranky mess in and around me.  Learning to be – and letting it be.  That was a choice. 

 My practice and my teaching embody my experience.  I offer anyone who comes to my flows a place, and space.  I will challenge your body.  I will ask you to breathe and to move.  It will get messy. 

The rest is your choice.