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Hard to believe my first yoga class was over twenty years ago. It was spring quarter at the Ohio State University, my sophomore year. Back then yoga wasn't so easy to come by, at least not in the Midwest. I didn't know anyone who had ever done
yoga or admitted any interest in it. Somewhere along the line I heard
it'd been around for thousands of years and was considered the "health care system in India." Though that didn't quite make sense to me, I tried to rationalize the saying about the difference between Eastern & Western medicine, which went that in Eastern cultures, health practitioners were paid to keep people healthy, while in the West, doctors were only paid when people got sick.

Fascinated by these confounding rumors and curious to try it for myself, I quieted that nervous voice that questioned if yoga was truly the domain of hippies and new-age gurus on the coasts. Regardless, from the first class I was hooked. There was a recommended book
for the class, but our teaching assistants discouraged us from buying it. They said that the best way to learn yoga was to do it. To this stressed-out and cash-poor design student, that was the first note
to what would become music to my ears.

Over the next 12-weeks we met twice a week, learning the Sun Salutation and many poses, or asanas. And we learned to meditate. Thinking back, that quarter was the beginning of me finding my center. Or maybe it actually started the year before, and it probably never ended. The summer before my freshman year at college, right between freshman orientation and the beginning of classes, my mother was diagnosed with liver cancer. OSU happened to be down the street from my house, so at my Dad's request, I transferred from my school of choice before classes even started. That September I started school on schedule with everyone else. Conveniently, my sister Cap was already in graduate school there, so she'd drive me
to campus and home each day, while my mother literally fought for
her life. Cap's words of encouragement are still with me today:
"Don't forget to breathe, and you'll be fine." Thankfully, that was
just simple enough for me to remember.

After a year of both tragic and ridiculously funny ups & downs,
(it was college after all) finding a class that reinforced that focus
on my breath, and on the constantly-present subtleties of life, was extremely comforting to me. Though it was a few years later until I actually started a regular yoga practice, the meditation that I learned in that class became my go-to relaxation technique for a long time.
By reliably bringing me restful sleep whenever I was challenged to
find it, I was able to handle challenging projects, difficult clients, and exciting life transitions, even long after I graduated.

Now my yoga practice is a very physical discipline, and the only meditation I incorporate is a few moments of well-deserved bliss in Shavasana. But for years, yoga was something private I rarely thought to share. For this reason I'm ecstatic to find myself teaching yoga and sharing it with new and old friends alike, with every level of yoga experience, all these years later. And I'm thrilled that this coming Sunday, Thrive Theory is sponsoring a Lululemon Trunk Show at Harbor Yoga Studio in Old Dublin. Of course, no name was more fitting to me than: The Don't Forget to Breathe Trunk Show.

Relishing all the challenges & triumphs in life is what feeling centered is all about, and what Thrive Theory works to remind us. WE'LL BE RAFFLING OFF SOME BEAUTIFUL THRIVE THEORY ITEMS!
So take advantage and stop in on Sunday 12-2pm and say Hi. Meet Angie O'Brian & Heidi Bell, the incredible owners at Harbor Yoga, check out Lululemon's rockin' new workout apparel and have some treats while you're there. Hope to see you...



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