The studio where I’m doing yoga teacher training shares a bathroom with an art studio that hosts kids’ birthday parties. Walking down the hallway, past the paintings of monkeys drying on the floor in the common area, the door to “Juiced on Imagination” is open. A long table is surrounded by little girls wearing pink construction paper crowns covered in glitter and stickers. They are eating cupcakes and chattering like little birds, fingers covered in paint. I look down and notice glitter on the floor of the hallway.
Later, as we are practicing pranayama, breathing deep into our bellies, I notice that our teacher has glitter on her cheek. We are all connected, can’t help but get our sparkle all over each other, all over the spaces we inhabit. No matter how different we might seem, we are the same.
