Author: 50statesofyoga

Practicing yoga in Sedona feels like plugging directly into the earth.

There’s a lot of talk about energy vortexes (vortices?) here — magnetic spots said to produce a range of physical, emotional, and spiritual effects. Whether or not you subscribe to the metaphysical, Sedona undeniably carries a charge. In the thin high desert air, among the towering red rock formations and juniper breeze, perspective shifts.

We stayed at the former Orchard Inn, where I unrolled my mat on the balcony facing a panoramic horizon. The air held a crisp, late-spring edge, cooling down just enough to tease sweater weather without fully committing.

My evening practice was inspired by the expanse: open heart, open mind. Reverse Tabletop and Camel to open the front body and counteract the five-hour drive from Las Vegas. Wide-legged forward folds and seated twists followed to support digestion and release tension. I closed with Malasana and Child’s Pose as the breeze shifted and the trees came alive with birdsong. I left the mat with dusty hands and a quiet mind, plus a healthy appetite after a day of hiking, which we satisfied with the best pizza of our lives at Pisa Lisa.

Sedona isn’t easily explained, but it is felt. The place holds gravitas — the kind that widens the corners of your eyes so you can take in more of the periphery. As the sun set behind the ridges, shadows cast a wash of watercolor across the landscape, revealing new edges and a pull of something ancient. Magnetic.

Somewhere near Joshua Tree, David pulled the car over so we could take a photo standing like this. I still have no idea why.

The 4×4 beaches of Corolla—accessible only by four-wheel drive—are one of the few places on the East Coast where you can practice yoga with the very real possibility of wild horses wandering by, which is both magical and slightly unnerving, like spotting a bear in the wild and forgetting all the advice. Black bear, fight back? Brown bear, lie down? Wild horse… run into the ocean—can they swim?

The view was stunning though, nothing but sky and sea for miles, and just steps from our tiny last-minute rental. It was our first trip after months of staring at the same four walls and backyard during the height of the pandemic. At that point, we were just happy to leave our house, even if it meant spending a week in a dump. It was a dump with a view.

I rolled out my mat in the early morning, before the sand heated up and the beach joggers came out. Our aging border collie/heeler mix, Laika, lounged beside me watching seagulls with the quiet wisdom of a senior dog. Just us, the salty breeze, and the trickle of low tide.

The flow played off the rhythm of the waves, starting with classic Cat/Cow (Marjaryasana/Bitilasana), pairing breath with gentle spinal movement—good for waking up the spine, the nervous system, and, in my case, the part of my brain that was still a little worried about fighting off horses. The ocean mirrored every breath: inhale, exhale, rise, fall.

Mornings are ideal for seated twists and kneeling lunges, especially when your body’s creaky and your energy is low. The sand added a bonus challenge: micro-adjustments, unexpected foot sinks, and a reminder that balance is as fleeting as the tide.

Sun Salutations (Surya Namaskar), fluid and meditative, were a natural progression. Originally a devotional greeting to the sun, this sequence felt especially appropriate as the light climbed over the dunes. Each cycle felt like a quiet reset, an invitation to worry a little less.

Balancing poses like Tree (Vrikshasana) and Half Moon (Ardha Chandrasana) are humbling on the soft surface. As your feet sink into the sand, you can almost feel all 26 foot bones working overtime to keep you steady. Focus arrives with a steady drishti and an audible breath. Surrounded by the vastness of sea and sky, alone on the beach with my dog, a few birds, and the ever-looming possibility of wild horses, I felt like a tiny part of something much larger — the entire ocean in a drop of water.

“You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” — Rumi

The beach in Corolla doesn’t try to impress. It just is. Raw, natural, and unassuming. And beach yoga has a way of stripping everything back just the same. A reminder that you can explore old things in new ways and when in doubt, yield to your surroundings (and the horses).

A family-friendly photo of some horses that walked by later that day. Might frame it for my office.

There are literally dozens of beautiful venues, parks, and studios to practice yoga in the vibrant, urban metropolis of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, so I chose a prison yard.

The contrast of practicing yoga – a tradition that encourages non-harming – in a place designed to “inspire penitence in the hearts of prisoners” appealed to me; a poetic element added to the Sunday morning vinyasa flow I attended on the grounds of the Eastern State Penitentiary – the oldest prison in the US.

The prison was operational between 1829 and 1971, holding 85,000 people, including notorious criminals like “Scarface” Al Capone. Said to be “the most haunted” prison in the US, it is now a historic site with a foundation that offers special events like spooky Halloween tours, yoga, and other fundraisers to support a mission of interpreting the legacy of American criminal justice reform. Work is needed in this area, as US prisons are predominately punitive. In contrast, many nations (Norway and Australia, for example) provide rehabilitation and restorative justice with highly successful outcomes for inmates and society.

Lumos Yoga and Barre hosts outdoor yoga at Corinthian Gardens, a small but well-equipped edible forest maintained by the community that sits adjacent to the prison yards. The slow Sunday morning flow was nice and easy. The space’s ambiance was complemented by the late morning sunshine filtering through the communal fruit trees and the chatter of families walking past with dogs and strollers. Whether you welcome that level of distraction or not, the class was utterly worth $18 for a unique experience.

The Eastern State Penitentiary Historic Site is located at 22nd Street and Fairmount Avenue, just five blocks from the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The former prison is open for daytime tours daily from 10:00 am to 5:00 pm.

Sunrise Asana with 2,000 other people at Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Morrison, CO was an illuminating experience in every sense of the word. As the sun rose over the acoustically perfect umber monoliths on a 92 degree July morning, bodies moved in unison as we Ujjayi breathed in the thin, dry desert air. It was, in multiple ways, breathtaking. 

To enter the amphitheatre one must climb 196 steps to the bleacher area. Huffing in low oxygen and with no sleep, I would have guessed closer to 5,000, but at the top (and lightheaded), the entrance to the venue rewards with an enchanting vision as the sun breaches the horizon. 

We placed our mats and took a seat, with plenty of time to soak in the view as more yogis shuffled in against the now glowing red formations. An instructor from Buffalo + Sparrow commanded the class of thousands with physical and verbal cues in Spanish and English (!), offering gratitude for the lessons of the land and native people of the southwest. During one Sun Salutation, facing a luminous sun and cerulean sky in Urdhva Hastasana, sparkly white blood cells floated past my retinas as my entire being felt the light and inspiration from the source of life itself. Perfectly at one and whole.

That moment was one where you use all of your senses to collect the information around you: the weightlessness of the dry air in your nostrils; the wavelengths of color softening your eyes; the smell of rubber mats and coconut sunblock. All subtle fragments of the memory souvenirs you reach for when at your desk back in the real world.

_{At the time of publication, Yoga on the Rocks is held at 7:00am on Saturdays during the months of June and August. A drop-in class costs $17 but due to popularity, tickets sell out quickly. As we are last minute planners, I purchased tickets through Stubhub and paid three times the price, but would have paid even more for that experience.}

_{The Courtyard Marriott Denver/Golden is only a short drive from Red Rocks and with no traffic, we arrived at the parking lot shortly after 6:00 am with only a few early birds ahead of us. Red Rocks is a thirty minute drive from the outskirts of Golden, Colorado, and isn’t busy at this early part of the day. Parking is free and there is a steep (but worth it) incline to enter the awe-inspiring venue.}