Her hamstrings reached out over the ground, grateful for the cool sensation of an earthen surface. Heels pressing down into the dampness of leaves and fallow land as her back body lengthened. Arms moving forward, fingers resting on the toes that carried her. All within the space of surrender, as she breathed into paschimottanasana, that posture of intense opening of the body’s west. And as she moved deeper into it, she knew, that in opening she risked less than what it would take from her to stay the same.