On Monday, I was at a yoga class led by a friend of mine whom I’ve been doing yoga with whenever I’m in Seattle ever since the studio opened three years ago (definitely check it out if you’re in Seattle or Portland at The Grinning Yogi). She always shares with us interesting anecdotes and stories that help us grasp an idea to focus on during the class, and as I sat parked in child’s pose, she told us one that resonated particularly strongly with what I’ve been going through in my preparations for Kyrgyzstan.