My first visit to Verge was not too spiritual.  It was a Saturday morning in January, before dawn and below zero. I walked from the Arctic parking lot  into what felt like a tropical rainforest in Studio Two. Soon after the opening bell, my K-Mart mat began to float around in  its own little moat of sweat.  The sturdy German instructor was providing us with mystical Swami cues: "...Breath into the awareness of the space as the vertebra peel apart opening one by one..."

My thoughts were on a different plane:  "So this is what infarction feels like.  I wonder if Cara gves you a refund if you die?" And yet:  The final position was one I felt comfortable in, the aptly named "Corpse Pose".

For some reason I kept coming back.  First once a week, then twice, then once a day.  The state of mind which could be called "The Mat State" seems to leak into every other facet of life. I read more carefully, concentrate better, sleep more soundly, open fire less often on other motorists of the Main Line.

The hour long practice, like a tea bag in hot water, subtly suffuses the rest of the day. It leads to what could be called "Yoga Episodes": watching a red-tailed hawk as it surveys all of winter from the hemlock tree.  Some kind of marvelous overall healing happens here.  I don't pretend to know how it works, I just know that it does.