
photograph by monkey business / dreamstime
January is a month when many of us turn our attention to health, to a “new you” and all that. A yogi, though, would ask us to pause long enough to consider: Why not a new you every month? Every day, even. We asked three writers to enter the world of yoga and share their distinctive experiences. Namaste.

photograph by houston cofield
Karen Moss has spent the better part of two decades teaching and practicing her passion at Better Bodies Yoga.
Focusing and Feeling at Better Bodies Yoga
Sure yoga can heal us — mind, body, and spirit — in theory. But what if you reach middle age (I’m 52, well into it), and the only mat in your life is the one you step upon when leaving your house? I paid a recent visit to Better Bodies Yoga, where owner/instructor Karen Moss made it very clear that I’m not too late for the benefits of this ancient, cleansing form of exercise.
“If you can breathe, you can practice yoga,” explains Moss, who opened Better Bodies in 2004, yoga having played a life-changing (and career-changing) role in the aftermath of her father’s death five years earlier.
“Spiritually,” asks Moss, “what better relationship can you have than the one you have with yourself? Yoga deeply rooted me in my own beliefs. It’s not just movement. It’s to clear the fluctuations of the mind. Yoga gave me patience, and tolerance for other people. You never master it. The world of yoga is so immense … but it helps make you a complete person.”
I entered my first yoga session looking for answers and, with Moss’ attentive guidance, departed with three central questions.
Am I aligned?
Our bodies are most certainly not aligned when reclining on a couch, slumping over a keyboard, or tilting left (or maybe right) when walking our dog. Our intricate collection of bones — and the tissues that connect them — has a design, and we must pause now and then to focus on ways we might be neglecting that structure.
Take off your shoes and socks. (If you can’t see your toes when practicing yoga, you’re not fully engaged.) Sit down on the edge of a firm chair, and place a light block (or small pillow) between your thighs, both feet firmly on the floor. Now take measure of your position. (Note: This is quite sedentary, but yes, it is an asana, a body posture for yoga.) If your pelvis were a flower pot, would it hold water … or are you tilted? Are your knees aligned with your hips? Are your toes — focus on the two closest to your big toe on each foot — aligned with your knees?
Lift and spread your toes, then apply pressure to the floor, first with the outsides of your feet, then with the insides. You’ll feel different muscles (inner thigh and outer) activate as you shift the pressure. Muscles will contract around your pelvis and sacrum (lower back). We use these muscles every day, with every step we take … but we rarely focus on them. Feeling — identifying — the subtle contractions of muscle triggered by movement (or merely the application of pressure with our feet) is internally liberating.
Am I breathing?
The answer to this question needs to be yes, of course. But am I — are you — breathing fully, breathing entirely, truly breathing right?
A deep breath slows our heart rate and steadies our circulation system. We know this as a stress-management technique for public speaking, or a big at-bat in an important baseball game. But how often do we focus (that word again) on the breaths we take, how deeply we take them, and how smoothly we release them? When you take a deep breath, does your belly move forward? If so, you can breathe better by allowing your diaphragm (rib cage) to expand gradually as you inhale. Tighten your abdominals, and let the oxygen fill your lungs to capacity. Proper breathing makes me feel like a picture of Superman, showing off that big “S” on his chest.
During one stretch, I audibly grunted, and Moss admonished me: Replace the grunt with a gentler, though still audible, exhale. I did so, and the discomfort became part of the asana, and less aggravation to my system. Treat yourself to a dab of eucalyptus oil on your upper lip, just below your nostrils. The powerfully pleasant scent will help you measure the depth and length of a breath — always through the nose — and remind you that the process, while automatic, can be rewarding like no other.
Am I mindful?
However brief or lengthy your yoga session, make time for savasana, the resting pose that concludes your experience. It’s a quiet “thank you” for both your mind and body.
I found a comfortable position on my back, legs and head slightly elevated. Moss covered my eyes with a warm towel, and the darkness rather took me. My job is one of deadlines … and they vanished. A lingering pandemic left my consciousness for a few precious minutes. What time was it? Didn’t matter.
Moss quietly talked me through the process: “Notice the sensation of releasing tension. Instead of thinking, just feel the sensations of your body releasing, letting go. You can bring awareness to any part of your body that’s holding tension. We have a hard time when we try to relax, because the mind wants to be distracted.”
Quite the opposite of distracted, I returned to a sitting position, my legs crossed. Facing Moss, I extended my arms, then brought my hands together in front of my chest, elbows out, a person comfortable in mind, body, and spirit. Namaste.
You can discover yoga, and yoga can discover you. There’s a small display on an upper shelf in the Better Bodies lobby, and its message grabbed me as I left the studio: “Be afraid not to try.” — Frank Murtaugh

photograph by joanna michelle harris
Downtown Yoga’s Vinyasa Flow class, led by instructor Morgan Stritzinger, focuses on faster-paced movements which provide flexibility and cardiac training. The fluid nature of the class ensures that no two classes are alike.
Vinyasa Flow at Downtown Yoga
My experience with yoga had been limited; I’d never really pursued the practice, and only dabbled when required to during the track and field season. But that was when I was a younger man, much more athletic and limber, and without the baggage of several season-ending hamstring tears, a sprained ankle, and other niggling injuries every regular 29-year-old picks up during, say, a high-stakes game in an adult kickball league.
So it was with some trepidation that I “volunteered” to take part in our editorial crew’s yoga sessions. My final decision came down to whether I’d pursue Hatha or Vinyasa yoga, but I eventually settled on a Vinyasa Flow class at Downtown Yoga, which seemed a suitable entry point for a novice. And when speaking with owner Joanna Michelle Harris after the class, my decision felt right.
“Vinyasa will move at a faster-paced flow,” explains Harris. “which heats up the body and provides both flexibility and cardiac training, and varies between instructors. The movements flow with exhale and inhale. I liken the constant movements focused around breathing to tai chi.”
I flipped open my laptop at 6 a.m. to dive into my first-ever virtual yoga class, not quite sure what to expect. Instructor Morgan Stritzinger slowly eased the class into position, and from there, we embarked on a fluid, interchanging rotation of poses and stretches for the duration of the 45-minute class. There were a few I recognized from past experiences, like downward facing dog, tree pose, and warrior pose. It was a far cry from the stilted and subdued home video yoga routines I’d been required to follow years ago for track. The Vinyasa Flow class kept me on my toes (both figuratively and literally) as we constantly shifted, but not at too much of a hurried pace. The flow, I think, kept my attention more than a slower-paced class might. As an ex-sprinter, the quick shifts made the class more exciting to me personally, where I worried that more prolonged exercises might have caused me to zone out.
My biggest struggle during the class was keeping my breathing front and center. For some of the more unfamiliar poses, I became so focused on getting my shape right that I fell out of a breathing rhythm, exhaling when I should have been inhaling, or at times just forgetting to breathe at all. But luckily, I had Morgan, who gently continued to offer reminders to focus on breathing, and guiding the class when inhale and exhale during our movements. That might be secondhand for all the seasoned yogi out there, but it kept me focused on my rhythm.
I came out of the 45-minute session feeling pretty good, if a bit sore from my first real stretching routine in a long time. Plenty of poses helped loosen my back muscles and hamstrings, among other areas. For anyone interested in dipping their toes into yoga, but are too nervous to walk into a class for the first time, the virtual option is a great place to start. It was still really easy to follow along with the movements via Zoom, and if you keep your camera turned on, the instructor can help with making sure you have the proper shape.
Harris filled me in on some of the other benefits of Vinyasa. With its quicker pace and pose-swapping, the routines can act as low-intensity cardio workouts, build strength and endurance, and improve stability and balance. Another benefit that everyone could use after these last couple of years is reduced stress and anxiety. Overall, the Vinyasa Flow class felt like a great starting point for returning to some semblance of my former athleticism.
I felt the burn, in a good way, for a few days after taking the class, but never felt like I’d pretzeled myself into a position from which my now-inflexible body could ever unfurl. While Hatha might be considered a better entry-point for beginners, the faster-pace Vinyasa provided exactly what I wanted from a session. It certainly felt tough, and there were some poses that I struggled to form, but who knows? Perhaps with enough practice, maybe even I could one day graduate to the advanced class. — Samuel X. Cicci

photograph by justin fox burks / courtesy any body yoga
Any Body Yoga founder Yo Clark credits yoga with helping her re- cover, both physically and mentally, from a severe workplace injury.
Finding Sanga at Any Body Yoga
Don’t You (Forget About Me)” plays as I unfurl my yoga mat at Any Body Yoga. It’s a Friday at 7 p.m., and I have signed up for TGIF Community Yoga, my first time exercising in public since before Covid, my first fitness class since 12th-grade P.E. — if you could even consider P.E. a fitness class.
Since those high school and pre-Covid days, I’ve been diagnosed with social anxiety, which can help explain my relationship to exercise. I’m not athletic; I have bad knees, terrible hand-eye coordination, and a knack for clumsiness. But my anxiety demands perfection from myself at all times, so I have a true disdain for exercising around other people, having them see my objectively ungraceful movements, my body’s inability to hold a pose, its inability to remain balanced, its inability to be perfect.
So on this Friday evening, I have already worked up an anxiety-induced sweat before I even step foot into the studio. But when I do and I hear Simple Minds playing softly on the speaker, I sing the lyrics in my head, a memory game to see if I actually know them or if I only think I do. It takes my mind out of the moment and brings it to recall the final scene of The Breakfast Club.
Later, when I ask Yo Clark, the class instructor and owner of Any Body Yoga, about her use of music at the beginning of the class, she says that she had to stop the playlist once class started. “Otherwise, you’d be in downward dog and I’d be thinking about the lyrics or thinking oh, I haven’t noticed this beat before, and you’d just stay in downward dog,” she says. I understand that sentiment.
Yoga isn’t a time for distraction; it’s a time to observe your body, your breath, inhale, exhale. “Be curious, not judgmental,” Clark begins the class. She attributes the quote to Walt Whitman, though later she confesses the quote comes from Ted Lasso. She reads a reflection, and I listen. We lie down on our backs, arms by our sides. We inhale as a class and exhale on Clark’s cue. We’re encouraged to close our eyes. “Be curious, not judgmental,” she repeats. “Breathe.”
I close my eyes. But anxiety tells me to open them because what if I’m the only one with my eyes closed? I resist because what if the teacher catches me with my eyes open and calls me out? So I give into the latter anxiety. I breathe. I count the seconds between each breath. On an exhale, Clark tells us to chant “om.” “Don’t be afraid of your voice,” she instructs. I whisper my “om.” Clark tells me later, “I find that once I can get past the breathing part of things, stuff starts to even out.” Mindful breathing, I’ve been told, is supposed to help with anxiety.
We move through different poses. I breathe. We breathe. We feel our breath move throughout our bodies. Downward dog, cat, cow, chair, warrior. “Extend your leg a bit more,” Clark says to me. I reject the instinct to be frustrated with myself, the instinct to judge myself more harshly than I deserve. Be curious, not judgmental. Let’s see how far I can extend my leg, what parts of my legs feel the stretch, does it feel good, do I need to shift my foot over, forward, backward?
“I believe that everyone can do yoga in one form or another,” Clark says. “When I first started out at my first classes, what stood out to me was the community in that room. It makes it more meaningful, so not only are we physically moving together but we are spiritually moving together. And it’s very important to me to have that sanga.”
Sanga, spiritual community, uplifts the individual without judgment and pushes the individual to try with the knowledge that failure is success’ complement, not its enemy. Be curious, not judgmental. Clark adds, “Another quote I really love is from Pattabhi Jois who was instrumental in bringing yoga to the West: ‘Practice and all is coming.’
“Those two quotes will get you through any yoga class,” Clark continues. “As humans we find it hard to wait on ourselves. We will go stand in line in the rain for the latest iPhone without a care in the world, but if someone asks you to sit for a moment and observe your mind and your breath and your body, people feel like you’ve asked them to sit for 20 hours and they’ve been sitting for two minutes. We’ve become very impatient with ourselves, but our yoga practice can help us learn to be patient with ourselves just as we are in the moment.”
As we finish up our class, we bow our heads, hands in prayer pose. I feel lighter, my shoulders not so tense. I want to feel anxiety-free, but I know it’s lurking inside me. But be patient, I remind myself, don’t expect perfection. Practice and all is coming. So I promise myself I’ll practice and return to the studio, where I can continue to learn to be curious. — Abigail Morici