Exit the middle.

When I was a yoga teacher in Tel Aviv, there was a class I liked to attend that was just incredibly slow. The simplest, most basic poses. Transitioning in and out of them at an extraordinarily slow, almost ritualistic pace. It was, technically speaking, what you could...

Old Turkish Lady yoga. Interior design.

Whenever I mention that there will be optional Old Turkish Lady yoga at one of my events, people invariably want to know what the hell. The funniest, most delightful variation on that question came from a lovely reader who identified herself as someone who was an old...

Tiny bits of wisdom, revisited.

I have been thinking a lot lately about what I know. Examining the edges of it. And also about the relationship between knowing that something is true (or true for you), and actually knowing it. You know, getting it in a visceral, powerful, spine-tingly way so that...

Friday Chicken #90: extra stompy

Because it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection. And you get to join in if you feel like it. Almost two years of...
The Fluent Self