The sweat followed. Gay sex They force me to listen to my body — to slow down, to be patient. Less a yoga move now, more a gesture of surrender — to the teacher, the class, the gods.I let my ass stay raised. I inhaled the poppers. A silence, a stillness, maybe even a kind of god.Yoga teaches flexibility. That ache, too, was progress.I once read that humility is a kind of pleasurable pain — something rare, and maybe even precious. Less a yoga move now, more a gesture of surrender — to the teacher, the class, the gods.I let my ass stay raised. The most humbling of positions. Then came the self-doubt. The body trembles before surrender. They didn’t care — but the voices in my head did.So I retreated — child’s pose. Knees folded, forehead to mat, arms stretched forward. That ache, too, was progress.I once read that humility is a kind of pleasurable pain — something rare, and maybe even precious. They force me to listen to my body — to slow down, to be patient. Then came the self-doubt. A deeper one. I tried again. That ache, too, was progress.I once read that humility is a kind of pleasurable pain — something rare, and maybe even precious.
