Hot yoga, very hot. At the front of the room, someone gets so into the distinctive, raspy throat breathing that he sounds like he’s, um, with someone very special to him. With this door opened, the rest of the room gets equally disinhibited until it sounds like we’re at an orgy on Fire Island. Or an after-party at the Modern Language Association.
Published by Dog in Chief
The Dog in Chief writes about the flourishing of embodied souls. In practice, that means a lot of content about exercise, the outdoors, strength, and the comedy of errors called cultivating character and happiness. In his innermost life, the Dog is a serious Buddhist--crappy and disobedient, but still very serious--and writes about such things professionally. In this blog they are seldom at center stage, but they are usually nearby in the background. View all posts by Dog in Chief