Image: Iyogalife.com

My feet press strongly into the ground. Balls? Check! Heels? Check! Outside edges? Check! I try to feel my arches lift–as if to suck that grounding, stable energy of the earth up like I would suck the last drops of lemonade out of the bottom of a glass through a straw. My toes lift and spread.

Planting my feet firmly into the ground lifts the crown of my head just a little closer to the sky. For just a moment, I feel tall… regal… powerful!

I firm my calves, then my thighs. My femur bones spiral in just slightly, but at the same time press away from each other. I feel my bones stack.

I lengthen my tailbone toward the floor and firm my belly.

My chest lifts toward the sky as my shoulder blades descend.

I feel that same energy that I draw from the ground shine out through the top of my head and extend through my fingertips, pointing toward the floor.

But after a few moments of pulling and pushing, firming and gripping, aligning and realigning something almost magical happens: A softening–not of the muscles, but of the mind.

This is my experience of Tadasana.