I'm currently participating in a writing course and this came from a writing prompt that asked me to write about a "lifegiving activity". So I wrote about yoga.

I set down the little piece of burning wood in an incense holder. Its fragrant smoke fills the air and fills me with serenity. I roll out my mat and sit down. Before closing my eyes I catch a sparkle from a piece of amethyst, one of the crystals I set out for today. I sit with palms facing up, to receive. The music is soft, melodic, and the words in a language I don’t fully understand. I feel my spine stack and my shoulders soften away from my ears. I feel the weight of my hips releasing into the mat. Letting go. I need this. After some time has passed, my hands come to my heart in prayer, anjali mudra. There is this rush of emotion, this connection. I reach my arms to the sky, sending out my intention to the universe. Hoping. Wishing. Being. My body starts to move. Twisting, turning, folding, opening. I leave my eyes closed to feel. Every muscle, every joint, every part of me. Parts of me that before were numb or sleepy, are now alive with sensation. I breathe into it. My breaths are deep, slow, intentional. It feels so good to breathe. It feels so good to move. Gratitude swells in my heart. I let my body decide where to go and let my mind rest. No need for planning. No need for analyzing. There is medicine in each and every movement. There is healing happening within my heart. This is connection. Real connection. I feel rooted into my own body. Grounded in the postures. As if this is what my body was created for. Like these postures are some ancient code I’ve punched in to unlock...something. I’m not sure what I’ve unlocked. But I know whatever it is, it’s changed me. And I can’t imagine being without it. Finally, my practice has come to an end. I lie down in savasana, corpse pose. I don’t feel like a corpse. My body tingles and I feel blood pulsing through my body. But there is stillness. My body is deeply at rest, yet so alive. I realize what I’m feeling is my soul. Slowly I bring my body back to life. I move into fetal position. Rebirth. I come back to where I began, seated with hands at my heart. I bow to my practice, to myself. Recognizing my connection to the divine, my connection to the Earth, recognizing my own mortality. Then I get up. I roll up my mat, turn off the music. And I take with me only a little spark of divine light.