Half pigeon pose in the dark on a Sunday morning. The cold blue mat smells like rubber. She finally puts on some music. The rest of the class is silent except for her voice. Half pigeon heralds the end of the class, just before the last pose of our choice and when I can lie down under the blanket with it’s southwestern motif. My socks and my long sleeved shirt. I have a love hate relationship with half pigeon. One leg bent at angle underneath me and the other stretched out behind. Straight with toe pointed. That leg should remain active. The foot of the bent leg with with a flex. Starting out upright with hands on the mat by hips. Then I can bend forward. My arms must be out straight in front of me. I would rather have them bent with my forehead on my hands. No they must be straight and I am to relax into the pose with my upper body. My body is screaming. I am not sure where the pain is coming from but I am supposed to breathe into it. That pain, that resistance is supposed to be for a reason. I am holding back. We are all holding back she explains. We need to release into this, acknowledging it. I continue to breathe with Uaji breath. The deep sounding ocean breath. Are you breathing she asks. I can’t hear you.