7

Emilie led the room of over fifty people into the flying pigeon pose, and I found myself folded over with my left foot on the ground and with my face centimeters from my right shin. We were practicing Vinyasa Flow Yoga - a modern form of yoga that stresses focus on the breath. But the outrageous position that I was crunched into led me to become aware of an entirely different part of my body: the small, pearl white cluster of scars that formed a string two inches in length on my leg. It shone in the sunlight cast through the full-wall window, looking like precious diamonds embellishing my shin. I brushed it with my fingertips, remembering dismounting the horse years ago to discover that the pain in my leg while riding was due to my idea to ride chapless, which caused my leg to rub against the saddle flap, rewarding me with a bloody sore that took months to heal over. Instead of forming one large scar, it had broken up into several tiny dots - like the islands of the Florida Keys. Now, years later, these scars spoke to me. The wound had become a distinct hyptopigmented patch of skin, and that area of my skin shone forth as the purest white of my entire body. The trauma that my shin had withstood created the opportunity for it to be rejuvenated into what I now consider the most beautiful part of my leg. I think to truly radiate as a person, our souls must also suffer some damage. It's the one who've cracked that the light shines through.