Yoga is sexy, that’s it – period.
There I was last evening, after months and months of doing nothing – finally back on my mat. I couldn’t believe it – it’s so easy to forget – the deliciousness of streeetching my side body, reeeeaching my arm outward, opening my heart to the heavens, standing strong and long becoming a mighty warrior – sooo coooool.
Sexy is the feeling in the body of being switched on. The zzzzz coursing under the skin. Sensual awareness flickering. Silky energy quietly purring. The stuff that modern, urban-jungle lifestyle, working in an office all day dims, even occasionally insidiously shuts down.
Something about flowing through poses, can sometimes, not every time, but often enough, connect all the synapses of the body with the interior self, making me brrr with aliveness.