Maybe it looks like this— yoga in living rooms, vegetables shared between friends, warmth, community, and practices that connect. Maybe it’s in the small revelations of finding your knee in your armpit, or your fingers woven behind your head…

In the kinesphere, a hang is like a kind of bow, a gesture of humility; with our head down inside the sacred cave of our legs or arms, we hear the echoing reverberation of our breath. We can encircle ourselves with our imagination, and, in doing so, find our center.

I noticed this Thanksgiving that some of the people I follow on social media were talking about being grateful for the things that didn't go as we had hoped. This resonated with me.