My brown body doesn’t belong here. My brown body craves belonging. I remember the day — it was a cold day in New York, and drizzling. It was hard to leave the confines of my overheated, and subsequently cozy West Harlem apartment to make it to the class at 10am on a Saturday. I walked into a storefront studio right off the street, and was hit by the overpowering scent of a sandalwood and vanilla air freshener plugged into the wall near the entrance.
Wow! Who knew I needed this information about yoga?! Thank you for your contribution.