Hard Things

in My Yoga, Three Things

1. The phone call Today I had to ring my mother and kind of break her heart. It's the hardest phone call I've ever made to her and she cried and I cried and then she blew my mind, like she always does. She turned around within minutes something that is the worst case scenario… Read More

Racism! It’s A Hoot!

in Life, My Yoga

This morning as I stood waiting for my coffee order a woman reached across me to take a paper without saying excuse me or smiling. I had to lean back or she would've pushed into my chest. For only a moment I wondered if she hadn't seen me as surely if she had she wouldn't… Read More

TYC went to Wellington!

A couple of Thursdays back I popped down to Wellington (my home town of a long time ago) to meet with some of the yoga teachers, studio owners and gorgeous yogis on their home turf. I managed to fit in a couple of classes and can’t wait to return because they were amazing and the… Read More

After Suicide

in Life, My Yoga, Uncategorized

Suicide and September. Two words that always go together on my calendar, whether or not there’s a highly promoted Suicide Prevention Day to seek help should you be depressed and suicidal. My family’s twenty-five years seemingly irrelevant, lost in the official and newsworthy yet still tightly bound together forever, regardless, for me, for my mother… Read More

A Mix And A Mingle

in My Yoga, Uncategorized
hannah jenson artist, yoga, the yoga connection

Some people are scared of spiders. Some people are frightened of the dark or have a fear of heights. And some people would rather eat their right arm than stand up and speak out loud in front of people who will be looking at them and actively listening AND be witness to a shaky voice… Read More


in My Yoga, Uncategorized

My left foot always takes longer to descend than my right. Although they still never feel at equal height I’ve stopped lifting my head to check. My shoulders sigh down to the mat, certain of where they’ll fall, sure of being caught. My fingers gently curl. Then nothing. I feel nothing. Nothing hurts, nothing pulls… Read More

Even Stevens

in My Yoga, Uncategorized

Rolling my mat up, replacing the block I hadn’t used and feeling rather defeated, I left my last Yin Yang class, taken in a humid room, with not a drop of sweat on me. I had spent much of the previous hour not being able to enter the full asanas, not meeting my eyes in… Read More

With Thanks

in My Yoga

It’s late to be writing a blog post, all the doors and windows are open and I can hear the neighbours speaking a mix of languages, sometimes soothing, sometimes jarring. I keep writing anyway. We’re all here in the in-betweenie bit of Christmas and New Year, a funny old place to be. Unless you’re away… Read More

Fifty-Four Things

in My Yoga, Uncategorized

I’ve been thinking about being brave. It’s an idea that’s often touched on in class, the implicit suggestion that bravery, something I’ve always thought of as a majestic, loud kind of show is more often found in the smaller, backstage details. Somehow that all makes sense on the mat. They say, place your palms up… Read More

Yogini On A Plane

in My Yoga

I wish I were one of those people. One of those people who travels like a pro; who deftly lies down in the middle aisle at 10,000 kms and gracefully stretches out into a cool Hanumanasana before dabbing lavender oil on their pulse points, wrapping their hand-painted linen scarf around their shoulders and drifting off into a state… Read More