Style: Yin
Teacher: Louise Sattler
Studio: Rama Lotus

I'm having nightmares in a Yin class. My fate is flashing before my very eyes. It won't be long now until I'm confronting death. It's Todd's birthday and he doesn't know it yet, but soon we'll be bungee jumping off the highest peak in Canada. Shawna has orchestrated an adrenaline-drenched birthday surprise and I'm going along for the ride. Right now as I'm melting in a lethargic, reconstructive Yin class, I feel far removed from my destiny. I'm too cozy to be faced with my own mortality.

The world is stretched out infinitely in all directions. The face of the cliff drops off, revealing a 200-foot plunge down to the blue quarry below. As I walk the metal plank like a death-sentenced prisoner, snug in my harness, my yoga challenge flashes before my eyes. I got into this looking for some exercise and it turned into an intricate adventure literally taking me to the other side of the planet. Sparse flakes of snow drift through the air and the high altitude is chilling me to the bone. I can't think of a more appropriate way to symbolize a leap of faith then diving head-first off a cliff with an elastic tied to my ankles.

An eerie calm is taking over. No thoughts cross my mind. Forcefully entering a state of deep meditation, I watch as I put one foot in front of the other until the tips of my shoes are resting over the edge. Moments later I hear a voice begin a countdown but it seems to be coming from far away, like I'm deep under water, looking up through distorted glass. Suddenly I'm Siddhartha Gautama teetering on the edge of a dramatic suicide and a pure Zen silence clears my consciousness. A few lifetimes pass and the countdown reaches zero. I feel my knees bend and my hands release their white-knuckle grip on the metal bars. I'm airborne. A few seconds of free-fall is an infinity. I feel my jaw clench and a blood-curdling scream gets caught in my throat. The edges of my vision get frayed and blurred as I enter hyperspace. A split second occurs where my mind can't compute what it's seeing. It can't accept reality and I feel it flicker out. Fully abandoned, I become pure perception, unobstructed observation. Soon I feel the cord make its presence known and my descent slows its pace. As my fingertips seem to graze the still surface of the water the cable reaches its limit and reverses its flow. In an instant of delicate whiplash I'm back up in the air, convinced I can fly. Suddenly the harness and rope seem like overkill. I feel like I could slip out of the equipment and remain floating in stasis, hovering in the middle of the sky. Free from the protective confines, I would take my flight up deliriously higher, deeper into the vast blue expanse. I would sail high above the treetops, far away from our manufactured civilization. Reaching for such great heights, the world down below would no longer seem real. It would appear as it truly is. Maya. Illusion. The concrete tumors and metal skin rashes would take on a natural appearance, the impact we've made seemingly erased once and for all. I would sail our friendly skies for a while, wind in my hair as the sun washes over my skin. I would circle the Earth, seeing with my own two eyes all the places I've never been. I'd investigate our home, observing the human condition from a safe distance.

I'd seek out masters all over the world. I would study with sages and sadhus, gurus and rishis, the great pinnacles of consciousness. I would study the ancient secrets and texts, learn the truth of our history and genetic ancestry, the meaning of life and our place in the cosmos. I'd travel the globe on a quest of learning that would easily last five-hundred years. Soon I would seek out teachers from distant galaxies, enroll in off-planet mystery schools to explore the nature of our Universe. I would figure out the specifics of interstellar travel and instantaneous teleportation. I'd learn true physics and unravel the mysteries of the quantum world. I would study in alternate dimensions and parallel realities. I would try to understand the nature of time and my relationship with it. Thousands of years from now I'd arrive at a place in my own pilgrimage of discovery where I could turn around and come back home to share what I'd learned with the planet of my birth. I would speak of where I'd been and what I'd seen. After I'd expressed everything I had to say I would reach out to the distant stars once again. One more time I would head out into the unknown, only this time with no intention of ever returning. This time I would never turn back. Eventually Earth would become a half-remembered dream, a hazy abstract splash of color in my recollection.

Will I still be who I am now when my days on Earth are over? Will I recognize those I've loved when we meet again? Will the fragile moments of my life be scattered and lost? Will I disappear without a trace, come and gone with no indelible mark left, dissolved and evaporated into the endless sea of eternity?

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

The Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali. Tomorrow is the next round of my teacher training, and I realized I've been slacking on my homework. We were instructed to practice meditation, which I've been making a point of doing, and read book 2 of the Yoga sūtras, which I have yet to do. In the early Friday afternoon I make my way to Singing Pebbles and pick up a few books from the reading list. Opening the first page of Patañjali's Yoga Sūtra, I realize there is something familiar about it. Then it dawns on me: I've read these before! During the first challenge I read a book by the modern-day mystic Osho called Yoga: The Science of the Soul, in which he explains the different sūtras one by one. There are many books about Patañjali's sūtras. Written nearly two millennia ago, the sūtras themselves are always the same - it's the commentary that changes. Osho referred to Patañjali as an early "scientist of the soul", sharing his insights on the writings and breaking down the meaning behind the words. The book I just picked up is written by Chip Hartranft, and as I make my way through the introduction and into the first chapter, I'm greeted with fresh language that is engaging and easy to read. The ancient sūtras themselves are a collection of 196 compact observations on the nature of consciousness and liberation, and are considered to be the foundation of yoga itself. The deeper I delve into the world of yoga, the more I fall in love with it. The writings of Patañjali are the absolute perfect place to begin the study of yoga, and I'm drawn in as I turn page after page, sitting in my living room by the fire as the logs crackle and burn, providing rustic background music. In the poetic words of B.K.S Iyengar,

"Patañjali fills each sūtra with his experiential intelligence, stretching it like a thread, and weaving it into a garland of pearls of wisdom to flavour and savour by those who love and live in yoga"

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham
Studio: Rama Lotus

After a long day I'm feeling physically, mentally and emotionally drained. The Sun has set in the horizon and the stars are starting to pierce through the dark quilt of night one by one. I'm on the road heading toward Rama Lotus for some friendly reconfiguration. As soon as I find myself a piece of floor in the Earth room and settle in, the class is off to a start. Tonight we'll be focusing intensively on hips. After only a few seconds into the first pose I realize I have quite the challenge laid out before me. My body is tight and stiff, responding sluggishly like it's been in a deep freeze for a few hours. Tonight more than ever before I am aware of the emotional storage capabilities inherent in my connective tissues, especially in my hips. After a few short emotionally-charged days, I can blatantly see its effect on my body. It's the best example yet, and I find myself mentally scanning and studying my physical makeup in detail, learning just how much energy I harbour inside. I realize that more than anything, I need to be gentle with myself and respect the state I'm in. I take things slow, settling into positions only as far as I am able to, doing my best to hold back comparisons of where I was last week or how much deeper I was able to take the poses in the past. By the end of the class I feel a freeing sense of lightness, understanding more and more how much truth there is in the concept of Yoga as medicine. No prescriptions necessary.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

As my train pulls into Union Station, rain streaking across the windows, I grab my luggage and make my way out into the night. The dismal weather mirrors the grey skies clouding my mind. Listening to car tires splash water onto the sidewalks, my memory drifts through frozen polaroids from my past. This morning my Grandfather passed away. His gentle spirit still lingers around me, and no matter what I do I can't seem to swallow the lump in my throat. I have no words. Only my breath, and I cling to it like a life preserver after the sinking of a ship.

In a world out of balance, where do I fit in? I have no solid answers, no conclusions, nothing. All I have is an inner resolve, an inner constitution that I'm desperately holding on to. I want things to work out for Mankind. I want us to be okay. The blurry image of my life is coming into focus more and more everyday. I'm starting to understand. There is no plan B. I don't know how, but I know what I have to do, what I'm here for. I'm going to stand up, against any odds, all adversity, and live for truth... no matter what the consequence. I pledge my life, my very existence, to our awakening. As cliché as it sounds, I believe in the power of love, I believe in the potential for a new tomorrow, and I'm willing to die for it.

Late in the middle of the night I settle into a reconstructive Yin sequence. The movements are counteracting the four and a half stagnant hours spent on the train, undoing the accumulated stiffness in my joints and muscles. Feeling my chest open as my spine folds backwards over my block in supported fish pose, I feel my heart explode. I have faith in us, in the human race. I know we'll persevere, I know we'll make the right choices. I know it's been a turbulent ride. I know we come from a dark history. But I also know that the human spirit will prevail. We're going to make it through, safe and sound to the other side. I believe in us.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Abe Cartland
Studio: Rama Lotus

Somehow sleeping through my alarm, I lazily awaken to the realization that I've slept through half a day of school. Before I'm even fully awake, I'm dashing around like a psychopath tripping over myself, trying to gather my things and get dressed and eat something and study simultaneously. And then suddenly I'm aware. What am I doing? Dropping all my things to the ground, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Chill. It's not the end of the world. As I feel my heartbeat and temperature slowly returning to normal, I decide that I'm not in such a rush after all. The planet is still gently rotating through Space, the birds are chirping, the Sun shining and the snow melting. It's all good. Instead of burning rubber out into the jungle of concrete and machinery, I take the moment to go into a meditation. Closing my eyes and crossing my legs, I fill my lungs with oxygen, then slowly release it. I begin to quiet my mind, letting the thoughts slow their frantic pace. Focusing my attention on my breath, I spend the next fifteen minutes undoing all the stress that had bombarded and besieged my psyche moments ago. When I open my eyes, I'm grounded and clear-minded. Let's try this again.

Later in the day I'm at Rama Lotus, decompressing further in a Yin class. All of a sudden I'm reminded of words from Mark over the weekend. He recommended that we do a little less yoga in the week after the teacher training, instead taking the opportunity to rest. He also recommended doing more at home then in a studio. While there are strong benefits to be gained from the studio experience, your awareness is still focused on the external world around you. Practicing alone at home is powerfully conducive to personalized introspection. Overall however, he also said that the overriding authority should be your own body, stressing the importance of self-study and understanding. The fact is, I've started the ninety day challenge and there is no turning back whatsoever. It's definitely the Pitta aspects of my personality that are encouraging me to continue at all costs. I'm a stubborn child who wont take no for an answer. Finding somewhat of a compromise, I've decided to concentrate on relaxing, rejuvenating styles of yoga for this week.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

Today I'm fully re-immersed in the familiar ebb and flow of civilization. The human race has welcomed me back into the fold. I've returned to my position in the wheel, building my paycheck. The city moves on, unchanged. Everything is as it always has been. Life at the Ashram seems so far away, so long ago. I'm back into the swing of things, going through the motions. One last time staying hidden from the world, tonight I'll be doing another Yin at home. A week ago, yoga at home was my dreaded worst enemy, now I'm finding comfort in my own space, my own seclusion. The immediate world around me is reflecting a calm, more organized approach to life. By some coincidental alignment of the Universe I have a few days off this week, and tomorrow is one of them. I plan on rising from sleep after my body wakes up naturally, of its own volition, enjoying the gift of being alive. At some point in the day I'll definitely get outside into the fresh air and make my way back to Rama Lotus. I'm feeling a little homesick.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

Where am I? All day today, watching the city operate in it's usual fashion, I feel a distance from it all. I almost don't recognize it. I forget the customs these humans have, the certified interactions required between earthlings to function acceptably within the machinery. At school I'm surrounded by aliens. I actually miss life at the Ashram. All day, fragments of wisdom I absorbed over the weekend are coasting peacefully through my consciousness. Thoughts and concepts from the deep discussion and teachings, the flow of the lifestyle. Reflections, contemplations, insights and understandings. Astral traveling. Retreating back home after my classes, I set up shop in my newly personalized shelter. In an attempt to avoid the outside world a little bit longer, still adjusting back into the pace of society, tonight I'm going to do a Yin at home. My friend's sister, Zia, crafted me two customized yoga blocks made from oak and birch. With my spine folded over one of them in supported fish pose, I feel new levels of relaxation and stillness setting in. Something is different. Something has shifted. My time at the Ashram makes me want to travel. I want to explore and study and evolve. I want to learn from Masters. The future is a complete mystery, an unknown, and anything is possible. I welcome the awakening.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Ichih Wang
Studio: Santosha Elgin

I think I know why I can't do yoga at home. One thing I love most about going to a good studio is the atmosphere. The setting can be so conducive to practice, designed specifically for centering and grounding yourself. At home, I have nowhere set aside, nowhere free from distraction, nowhere inviting a meditative experience. My intention for tomorrow is to thoroughly clean and organize everything, to help my surroundings work with me instead of against me. I've heard authors say that the first step in developing good writing habits is making yourself an enjoyable space to sit down and summon inspiration. I think the same rule applies.

Tonight was my first time in Ichih's Yin class. Where has this been all my life? Ichih is an amazing teacher as it is, and has a very unique style of Yin. Tonight began with a lengthy meditation. That was a first for me in a yoga class, and I found it to be an amazing, surreal experience. It takes some time, but the more I try to be still and let my thoughts dissipate, the more I sense a hint of something endless and all-inclusive. It really gets me wondering - what is the nature of reality? What's it all made of and what's it all for?

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

Okay, let's try this again. After being utterly defeated practicing yoga at home last night, I've decided to pass on all my favorite Sunday classes and dedicate another day. I can't use distraction as my excuse, blaming my difficulties on a DVD. Mark is one of my favourite teachers. There has to be more to the story. Finding myself a series of uninterrupted quiet moments, I prepare for my next inward journey. Tonight, something is different. The myriad of distraction is gone and I'm able to stay present as I move through the same postures as the night before. Instead of an impersonal digital dialogue, tonight I'm hearing the words fresh, as if for the first time. The world around me slows it's orbit and things are simplified. Not to say that tonight was without it's own struggle, but it was in sharp contrast with my previous lack of concentration. I'm still not sure what is holding me back personally from really cultivating a home practice, but I intend to get beyond it and start to unravel its mysteries.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

No. Really. I can't do yoga at home. Over the last two weeks, there have been a few moments where I've considered just staying in the comfort of my house, avoiding the intimidating task of dragging my ass out into the night and into the last available class. Seeing as my home practice is my worst enemy, I've decided that I can't do it in a last-ditch effort to fit one in before the dawn of the next day. When I practice at home I have to consciously make that decision. I have to want it. If my intention is to practice at home, only then can I unroll my mat at home.

Waking up on a pristine Saturday morning, I decide that today is the day. Maneuvering my way through an afternoon full of tasks around the house, I finally carve myself a niche of daylight and unfold my mat. It's only then I realize I am far from alone. The world around me is alive with opportunity. Noise creeps in through the floorboards, the door frames, the air vents, devouring any and all sense of privacy. Footsteps stomp across my attention span, voices interrupt all concentration. The glow of my laptop provides the only light-source in the room, and I find the digital instructor to be a completely inorganic guru. The teacher himself isn't the problem: it's the electronic filter between us. Or maybe it's just me creating my own excuse for a distraction. I find myself engaged in a ferocious internal struggle the likes of which I've never seen.

Earlier in the day I painted my second floor. Applying a careful brushstroke across the walls, my mind quieted down and my focus found a common ground. My breathing fell into place and before I knew it I was tethered to the moment, locked in time and space. Anything is yoga. Yoga is a state of mind. Yoga is only a word. Behind the word is an introduction to self, a reintroduction to the current moment. You are given the opportunity to meet yourself in a real, tangible, one-on-one interaction. Standing back, looking at my craftsmanship of colour on the walls, I am hit with a new insight. All afternoon I've focused my intention and in effect I've lived in the here and now, channeling my creative forces. As soon as I flipped open my laptop preparing to manufacture an experience and listen to a recording, I lost all grip on the moment. I'm still not quite sure what or why that it is, but something is holding me back from an intimate home yoga trip. What I understand completely is the magnitude of it's importance. I need to cultivate my own space, my own personal portal to the inner dimensions. The question is, how?

Style: Yin
Teacher: Louise Sattler
Studio: Rama Lotus

I know, I should be at Santosha. I'm still on my two week unlimited run right now. The thing is, it's Saturday morning and about six of my friends are heading to a Yin class at Rama Lotus. I think I'll splurge a bit today and join in the fun. After some fresh fruit and green tea I'm in the Crystal room, and it's more filled with yogis then I've ever experienced. I kid you not there were mats no further then an inch away on all sides from wall to wall. Talk about cozy. Somehow it actually worked, everyone finding a patch of hardwood and cultivating their practice. Outside after class, again I find myself on cloud nine, breathing deeply and trying to suppress a bubbling excitement from bursting out, leaving me laughing like a maniac in a public place. The weather is beautiful today; the skies are an endless blue expanse, the air is filled with maple syrup on snow, burning cedar and a thousand voices as they slide their blades across the frozen canal. After yoga, I've donned my skates for the first time this season. Living a stones throw from the canal, I feel like I take it for granted. Today out on the ice I'm filled with a realization. Our country is beautiful.

As the sharpened blades under my feet cut through the ice and carry me across the city, I notice that I'm skating effortlessly, with much better form then the last few years. I feel like I can power myself towards the horizon, lungs expanding and contacting with ease, sending life-force through my veins and unearthing a strength I never thought I had. The ninety day experiment continues to fascinate. It seems to be unavoidable and imperative that the changes occur on both the outside and the inside, and it's almost as if you can't have one without the other. A transformation of this nature has to be whole and all-consuming, changing both that which is biological and that which is ineffable.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham
Studio: Santosha Elgin

On my feet for the ninth consecutive hour, I'm finally free to go home. Having been engaged in simple arithmetic since 6 am, my mind is still moving a mile a minute. It was just one of those days at work that lingered on long after it was scheduled, a steady flow of mundane tasks flicking numbers off the clock. Still feeling yesterday's lingering weariness, I unlock my front door and find myself lying on my back across my living room floor, looking up at the ceiling. I should go to an earlier yoga class today so I can get some sleep and avoid being up late into the night writing a blog post before an early morning again. That was the last thought I can remember before drifting into a deep sleep.

Rising from an extended accidental savasana, I wake up to realize I have no time to waste if I want to get to the last available class. I pick myself up off the floor and convince my exhausted legs to carry me out into the night. Outside, the winter air is so still that the world seems to be submerged in a vast ocean of moonlit snowflakes, held overhead in suspended animation. Walking along the frozen canal I breathe in the fresh air, excited to try another new studio tonight. I've heard good things about Santosha, and the change of scene feels nice after a long day at work. Off the ice, a red, green and briefly yellow kaleidoscope of light stretches down Elgin street.

There's one thing you may have noticed about yoga - it ain't cheap. Arriving at Santosha for the first time, I was offered a two week unlimited pass for $25. You can imagine where I'll be for the next fourteen days. Stepping into the studio, I find a long room with dark, rich wood floors. At the front end are wall-to-wall windows, and outside a trillion snowflakes dance and swirl under the streetlights. Although the studio is new, I'm familiar with tonight's teacher. I took dozens of Mark's classes throughout the first challenge, and this time around isn't any different. One great thing about his style of teaching is that he is very well spoken, explaining technical details and new subtleties in the postures. This Yin sequence is putting me back together, piece by piece. After a sublime walk back home I take sanctuary in a hot shower, cleansing myself of all left over tension. I finally crawl into bed, thoroughly reconstructed.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Melanie Richards
Studio: Happy Tree

Aboard the night bus on the frozen highway, Montreal is disappearing behind me. In the dim light putting pen to paper, I'm feeling quiet and introspective. Finishing an amazing weekend with a restorative Yin class can have that effect.

Happy Tree came highly recommended by friends in Montreal, so I made my way out into the night and onto the metro, heading west across the city. The studio itself is beautiful with a modern design. No two Yin instructors are alike. Melanie led the class through a hip-intensive sequence, sprinkling interesting information in with the instruction. In final savasana she played a gong, sending my consciousness on a psychedelic trip.

Listening to the gentle hum of the bus with heavy eyelids, my mind wanders through blissful residual memories of the last few days. I've been dividing my time between yoga, friends, celebration and the love of my life. The experiment is spiraling me deeper and deeper within, anchoring me to the ground while at the same time sending me out past our atmosphere. Gazing sleepily out the window at the passing moonlit silhouettes of skeletal trees, I feel my mind start to shift its focus. Now looking forward at my upcoming week, some of the warm fuzzy bliss gives way for a creeping anxiety. I have a week so full it's bursting at the seams. My hours will mostly go toward earning money at a job I don't love. Again Yin has opened me up and hit me with the big questions. What is it all about? Where is it all leading? And what is it that I want?

I know I want out of Zombie Incorporated, surrounded by the living dead sleep-walking through daily routine. I need something else, something more. I have no answers at the moment, only an intuition that is persuading me to live fully and authentically. I'm not sure how yet, but I know I have to chase something profound and meaningful, and follow it wherever it may lead.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Louise Sattler
Studio: Rama Lotus

Choice. Sunday night is easily my favorite time to practice Yoga. Washing away the week, coming full circle, it is pretty much the most rejuvenating, reawakening experience available. During the last challenge, I would always find myself at Rama Lotus at 6:30 torn between two paths. One way leads to Ichih's Power Vinyasa, the other to Yin with Louise - two of my favorite classes. I usually let my body decide, choosing based on what state I'm in. After the last few days of physically demanding classes, I'm definitely feeling it. A Sunday evening Yin sounds like a perfect end to the second week of this challenge. In the wall-to-wall filled Earth room, there's no place I would rather be then here, unrolling my mat across the cork floors.

It's always interesting bringing someone to yoga for the first time. Tonight I came to class with a few friends, one who had only been once, and never to Yin. He managed to survive, lasting through the most hip-intensive Yin class I've been to yet. Yin can be a scary experience. One moment you think you're about to do some stretching and the next it's like "hi, allow me to introduce you to yourself". Louise is an amazing teacher, calmly, soothingly and lovingly torturing and abusing her students. Sinking into the mind-numbing gecko pose my eyes widened and I seriously thought I was going to snap, go over the deep-end and finally end up being helped out of the studio and checked into the closest mental institution. And I don't even want to talk about double pigeon, but I think it scarred me for life.

People seem to have a few misconceptions about yoga, and I guess I was no different before I'd experienced it for myself. The attitude that I find the funniest is that there's nothing to it, that its easy. I have a yoga-hating friend who has volunteered to come to a class. I'm thinking Mike's grueling Wednesday night Ashtanga will do the trick.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham
Studio: Rama Lotus

This Yoga is gonna be the death of me. Or Mondays. Or maybe yoga on Mondays? Waking up for work at 4:30 am followed by 8 hours of school equals one tired yogi. Somedays I have to ask myself why. Am I a glutton for punishment? One day off couldn't possibly hurt... could it? Ah, who am I kidding. After one missed day the entire project would fall apart and disperse into a half-assed attempt, all conviction and confidence scattered to the corners of the Earth. No, I must continue. The 91st day will come, and on that day I will chill out and relax. Until then, the battle continues.

On the menu tonight is another Yin. Week 1 of the challenge has seen many Yin classes, and it's having a truly amazing effect on my mind and body. After tonight's session, I'll be shifting gears to more physical, strenuous styles as the second week progresses. For now I'm off to Rama Lotus. Coincidentally tonight's class is being taught by Mark, the teacher from last night via DVD. Tonight it's the live, in-person version. If I can manage to make it through, I'll be back under my covers and teleporting to dreamland as fast as I can, trying to get in a few hours sleep before 6:00 am work tomorrow. May the force be with me.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Mark Laham (DVD)
Studio: Home Practice

I can't practice yoga at home. Why do I feel this way? For some reason, unrolling my mat alone at home is the most impossible task in the world. All of a sudden I'm cleaning and tidying any random thing, floating here and there, procrastinating. It seems completely tedious. Why is this? I love yoga!

This Sunday evening I decided it was time to do a class at home. Lighting some candles and inscence and unrolling my mat, I set up my glowing laptop on a coffee table. Mark Laham is a teacher I've gotten to know at Rama Lotus during the original yoga challenge. He teaches a great Power Yoga class, as well as an amazing Yin class. Months ago I picked up some of his DVD's at the studio knowing I wouldn't make it in the next day. Before that, I'd done a few home classes I'd downloaded off iTunes, and they were honestly horrible. Mark's are different, accompanied by relaxing music and well-worded instruction, and the experience has been great. Maybe it's just me, but for some reason I've found it really hard to focus and be in the zone alone at my house, surrounded by an infinity of distraction. Again and again teachers emphasize the importance of developing a strong home practice, and it's something I plan to really get into over this challenge.

On this winter Sunday night in the warmth of my living room, I'm finding it easier then ever to forget my world and enter my inner universe, letting go of all the details of my life. After putting it off all day, the feeling of finally letting go and surrendering into the process again is like a sigh of relief; a soothing late-night end to a long first week.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Lucy Tuplin
Studio: Rama Lotus

There's nothing quite like melting in a Yin class as the sun goes down. On the hardwood floors of the Sky room, my mind is at ease and my body is responding comfortably, sinking into the poses deeper then ever. My eyes closed, guided by gentle words and light piano notes softly floating through the setting glow of the sun. Feeling my breath fill my lungs, I flow through the motions in this full saturday evening yoga class.

Yesterday after yoga I drove out of the city, to the small town of Chelsea. Santa Claus blessed me with passes to the extravagant Nordik Spa over the Christmas Holidays. Completely outdoors, this relaxation technique originates in Finland and apparently dates back 2000 years. The concept is an alternating between hot, cold and relaxation periods. Without getting into detail, the experience of walking out of a eucalyptus steam room into the crisp winter air and plunging into violently cold, crystal clear water, resurfacing and running over icy stone to enter a steaming hot cascading waterfall and finally submerging underwater transported me to another dimension. Leaving the spa hours later, I've had a residual sublime buzz follow me everywhere. Here tonight in this Yin class, in the dimly lit room glowing with candlelight, I'm utterly at ease. As any thoughts attempt to give their two cents I lazily wave them by, completely and thoroughly present. Hot tea, warm blankets and a good movie are the only things I can think of to end this cool January night.

Style: Yin
Teacher: Louise Sattler
Studio: Rama Lotus

Either I fell down multiple flights of stairs or I was run over by a truck. Or it could have been that Ashtanga class last night that's making my legs feel like cement is drying in their veins. Wow. Deadly. Amazing. At this point any normal person would have taken today to rest, recover and relax, and maybe hit the mat again in a day or so. However, this is not an option for me. My Alternative? Yin.

The Yin style of yoga is very unique unto itself. While many styles emphasize strength, internal heat or the lengthening and contracting of muscles, Yin yoga generally focuses on the connective tissues of the hips, pelvis, and lower spine. It is quite hard to explain actually, exactly what Yin yoga is. It really has to be experienced. If other yoga styles require effort, determination and endurance, Yin requires the opposite. Instead, the idea is to release all effort, let go and really sink in. The postures are held for a much longer period of time. At first glance, the still, motionless positions could appear overly passive to an action-oriented yogi. When you experience it, however, you instantly realize there is much more going on. Of all the different styles I've experiemented with, none draw me as deep within myself as fast. Yin holds you in the now and dismisses that western mentality of "doing" and introduces you to the concept of "being". To just release all effort and drift into your true self. Sounds easy. One catch. The deeper you dig into the dark recesses of self, the greater the possibility of unleashing something so powerful and destructive that it could destory your entire world-view and concept of self in a single instant...