I got you.

To the girl who cried in my yoga class this week:


Thank you for showing up amidst whatever you had going on that day.

Thank you for letting it out, for not feeling the need to “keep it together.”

Thank you for letting me see you and support you.

Thank you for taking this practice beyond the exercise, for making it whatever you needed it to be that day.

Thank you for reminding me there is no need to “perform” or impress anybody when we go to yoga; that all the teacher wants to do is hold your head and wipe away your tears.

Thank you for letting me share this beautiful, silent human connection with you, for letting me be your person for a moment.

Thank you for using my class as exactly what I always hope it will be: a retreat, a place to work shit out, a place to leave anything you don’t want to carry anymore.

Thank you for reminding me of the times I’ve cried on my own mat; the times this practice has cracked me open and helped me release what I had bottled up inside. The times I’ve had big revelations, or moments of surrender. The times I realized how far I’d come or how scared I was. The times that – looking back now – mark pivotal moments in my own journey, from my last class in Barcelona, to my first class back in Boulder after moving away. The times I realized that I could go anywhere in the world, and still find myself at home on that 2-by-6-foot rectangle.

Within the bounds of that rectangle we can be whoever we are, we can scream or cry or laugh, we can collapse into a puddle on the floor, or stand strong in warrior pose. Or both. Or neither. We can forget the day's troubles, feel protected from them, and feel supported by the earth beneath us. We can stop trying to be something/anything, we can feel our own hearts beat; we can take off our masks.

Within this rectangle we practice being ourselves, so that it’s a little easier when we step off the mat.

Thank you for making me feel good at my job, and for reminding me why I love it so much. As the tears streamed down your face, I wanted you to know that I saw them, and that it’s okay - that it’s more than okay; that I encourage it.

Let it go, girl. I’m right here. I got you.


Where do you find this feeling of home? What are you doing for yourself this week to let go of any crap you're carrying, to be a little more seen? Share in the comments below!

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