As the first light touches the garden, something shifts in the space between sleep and waking. This isn't about perfect poses or Instagram moments—it's about conversation with your body, negotiation with your breath, and communion with the morning that knows exactly when to warm your skin.
We practice on natural wood that holds the night's coolness just long enough. The jungle provides our soundtrack—bird calls that change with the seasons, wind through bamboo that adjusts to your rhythm. Some mornings bring mist. Others arrive crystal clear. All bring exactly what you need.
This is yoga as dialogue, not performance. Where beginners teach advanced practitioners about beginner's mind, and where your body's wisdom trumps any textbook alignment. We move with nature's tempo, not a predetermined sequence.
After practice, we sit in circle. Sometimes in silence. Sometimes sharing what surfaced. Always honoring what wants to emerge when you finally give it space to breathe.