“I don’t like being touched.”
“Yes.” He knelt beside her.
“May I touch you?” He repeated.
He placed his warm palms on the front of each of her shoulders, and gently pushed down toward the yoga mat.
“Breathe into your resistance,” he said. “And release it.”
She focused on her breathing.
“You are safe.”
How does he know? She tensed.
“It’s okay. Inhabit your body.” His voice was far away.
Tears pooled in her ears, overflowed, and ran down her neck.
“Breathe into your bones. They are yours.”