This morning I was cranky and PMS-y and didn’t want to get out of bed. But my roommate thankfully knew what was best for me and all but pushed me out of the house to go to yoga. I drove my lethargic bag o’ bones there, all the while dreading the feeling of not-good-enough-ness that would surely descend upon me when I failed to meet my own yogic standards. But I got lucky today. I was blessed with a yoga teacher who delivered exactly what I was too constricted to realize I needed. She...












