Cooking for one

For over $100 a month, you can buy humidity in the Phoenix summer. Hot, yoga! In the desert, locals are affectionate with the understanding: typical temperatures are 110 degrees, hot yoga will cool you off at a brisk 95.

Halfway through our routine, I’d much prefer to be the morning egg our weatherman cracked over the pavement. Born again through heat and stress, now a healthy start to the morning (asphalt grit is easily plucked). But in the studio, I had no comfort. Cracked open, leaking, I dispensed life-giving fluid like a newborn Brita. How could I pick up these pieces myself? My instructor was distant, a faint voice against the broil of the air around me. Only she could season me, flip after 4 minutes, presenting to the world a gorgeous recreation of man. Thoughtful, flexible, 7 grams of protein with a delectable center.

Yoga is harnessing the power of my yolk. Acknowledging my faults, my pockets of cholesterol, with equal focus to my vitamins. Eyes closed, and Shivasana. Devoid of egg white, my focus is totally internal. I am exactly as I should be. An omelette to be, time to cook and time to grow.