My first taste of yoga came from a book. My friends will laugh at this. I'll admit it...I was/am a nerd, a bookworm with glasses to match. I had signed the book out because I liked the picture on the front. A man and a woman standing in Virabadrasana A (Warrior) in front of a waterfall, the scene drowning in sunlight. I remember teaching myself sun salutations and practicing them in my room when I was trying to avoid my brother.

Years later a friend gave me a free pass to the new (and only) yoga studio in our city. I've never been athlectic and generally regarded myself as the least flexible person in the world. But I recalled my book; the glowing woman on the cover and the simple movements I learned years prior. When I finally braved my first class the teacher worked us through the Ashtanga Primary Series. I was lost. I looked around the room and tried to contort my un-athletic body into the postures I saw around me. No go. I would look to my teacher with a pleading and helpless expression. He would look at me and smile and remind me to breathe.

In spite of the sometimes unkind thoughts I would direct towards my teacher, I always found a sense of peace at the end of practice. Some feeling that I couldn't quite hold onto but that would saturate my body with a sense of stillness, of completeness.

I continued to attend for several reasons. One of the less noble, but most honest, motivators was the nice toned bodies that several of the girls that attended regularly had. They looked so strong, so sure of themselves. I wanted that. I also began to notice that nobody cared that I couldn't reach my feet (or even my shins) in forward bends. And they served tea after class. Jasmine tea. A small town girl, I had never had it before and, as a small town girl, I found comfort in the sense of community that came with the tea. I once drank so much I made myself sick, but that's another story altogether.

And now, many years later, no longer fond of Jasmine tea (I really made myself sick), I still have yoga. At some point my teachers had repeated enough the message that my yoga was my own that I finally believed it. So now it's just about the journey, about finding joy on my mat every day and striving to pass the joy onto others. I often joke that yoga is my longest relationship... nobody laughs anymore, but I still make the joke. I will forever be a student of yoga, exploring my practice and working with others to find some acceptance and tolerance for ourselves and each other.

As a teacher, I hope to bring a sense of community to my classes, a sense that we all belong, that our bodies are as the world intended. I hope to support people in their relationship with yoga, so that it may be rich and whole and completely their own.