Thank you for putting your mat down next to mine in class yesterday. You said hi to me in the studio lobby and mentioned that you had taken a class of mine a long time ago. During class, we were standing in “Bird of Paradise” and you generously reached your hand out to support my foot. I thanked you. At the end of class, you were my partner in a forward fold assist. You offered to assist me first and did it with such gentle grace and confidence. You connected your breath to mine, making me feel safe and more flexible than I had in years. It wasn’t until the end of class when we were rolling up out mats and I looked at you—really looked at you—that I remembered who you were: the young woman who had taken my yoga class back in February 2012. The experience I had with you back then (almost two years ago) had prompted me to write a post about how your critique during class made me think about my teaching. You told me last night that the classes you took with me were your very first ones and that they were what inspired you to begin your training to become a yoga teacher yourself. I was moved…by the gift of having had this interaction with you, the new knowledge that I had something to do with your journey, and the fact that I could now see your beautiful spirit.