When I first started teaching yoga, I was awed by all these other teachers that knew precisely how poses should look. They were confident when they adjusted me verbally and physically. They knew exactly what I was doing “wrong” and how to fix it.

Turns out, they were all full of shit 💩 .

For a long time, I made most of my decisions out of fear. Fear of disappointing other people. Fear of disappointing myself. Fear of angering people. Fear of facing rejection. Fear of not knowing what the outcome might be. To the outside world, I may have talked a big game, but deep down I always played it safe. I hedged my dreams and subconsciously, I kept my voice and myself very small.

Are you a worry wart? Do you think it’s normal to worry constantly? Do you feel that people who don’t visibly look worried about things just don’t care and live in a lala land? Do you scream at other drivers during rush hour? Do you yell out at the subway attendant when the train is delayed (I witnessed that one a few weeks ago)? Do you yell at your spouse when someone is coming over and the house is still a mess (yeah, I’ve done that…sorry Samit!)? If so, you’re definitely not alone. I’m not here to turn you into a weirdo that never worries. But if you don’t already know that worrying incessantly can lead to lots of physical problems down the road, I’m here to tell that’s just where you might be headed.

“Why me…why did this happen to me?”…that familiar cry of self-pity mixed with desperation. I have definitely asked myself that question before. In fact, I remember asking myself this question quite a bit when I was first officially diagnosed with psoriasis.

I've been taking boxing lessons over a year now and as weird as it may sound, I consider it to be a part of my yoga practice. Sounds weird, right? As you might have guessed, I find yoga in everything and my boxing training has really elevated my yoga practice. There are a couples of reasons for this...