Yoga isn’t just about the stretch.
It’s not just about being flexible or flowing through perfect shapes.
It’s about returning.
To breath.
To body.
To a part of you that isn’t rushing.
I came to yoga like most people do—
Tight muscles. Stiff joints. A mind that wouldn’t slow down.
I thought it would just help me loosen up.
And it did.
But it also cracked something open.
Because in yoga, you feel everything.
The shake of a held pose.
The weight of your own breath.
The emotion that rises in silence.
The space between movement and stillness where something ancient wakes up.
Yoga taught me that healing doesn’t have to be loud.
That power can be quiet.
That release doesn’t always look like a breakdown—
Sometimes it looks like a long exhale on the mat.
It reminded me that I can be strong and soft.
That I can hold a pose—and myself—without force.
And when I leave the mat,
it stays with me.
In how I breathe.
In how I speak.
In how I carry myself through a day that used to carry me.
You don’t need to be flexible to do yoga.
You just need to be willing to meet yourself where you are.
That’s the Cushy way.
