Yoga is my home. The mat may not be my own and the studio may be a place I stop by in my travels. There may be no mat at all, simply a patch of grass or sand will do just fine. Yoga lives in my bones and runs through my veins. Even when everything in life gets mixed up and confusing, as is the nature of being this soul in human form. Yoga is my rock. The breath, the stillness, the dynamic movement, the intention to simply be...me. That is how I live my Yoga.