Page 14
Story: Ship Happens
Devi approaches our mat. “The purpose is to align your breathing and heartbeats. It’s quite scientific, actually. Studies show that partners who synchronize their physiological rhythms experience enhanced communication and problem-solving abilities.”
I bite back a smile as Harper processes this—Devi’s played the science card. After a moment of internal struggle visible on her face, Harper places her right hand against my chest. I mirror the action, my palm resting lightly over her heart. Her pulse races beneath my touch.
“Now the left hand,” Devi reminds us.
Harper places her left hand over mine, and I do the same. We’re holding each other’s hands against our chests. Her skin is warm, her fingers slightly calloused—the hands of someone who does fieldwork, not just lab research.
“Close your eyes,” Devi instructs. “Breathe together. Inhale for four counts, hold for four, exhale for six. Feel your partner’s heartbeat. Allow your rhythms to synchronize.”
I close my eyes, focusing on Harper’s pulse beneath my palm. It’s rapid at first, but gradually slows as we breathe together. Despite her obvious discomfort with the situation, she’s following the instructions—inhaling when I do, holding, exhaling slowly.
“The breath is our most intimate connection to life,” Devi says, her voice soft as she moves around the room. “When we share our breath with another, we share our essence.”
I open one eye to find Harper watching me. She closes her eyes when she realizes I’ve caught her.
“Now, maintain that connection as you move into your first pose,” Devi continues. “Partners, please sit with your backs against each other, legs extended in front of you.”
This position is easier—no eye contact, just the press of Harper’s back against mine as we sit up straight. Her posture is impeccable.
“Reach your arms up and back, holding your partner’s hands above your heads.”
We follow the instruction, my hands finding hers in the air above us. Her fingers link with mine.
“Now slowly bend forward, allowing your partner to bend backward, stretching their spine over yours. Then reverse.”
I wait for Harper to resist, but she leans forward, pulling me into a gentle backbend over her. The stretch feels incredible after the obstacle course this morning. When we reverse positions, I support her weight easily as she arches back.
“Great work, everyone,” Devi praises. “Now let’s transition to a more challenging pose. Face your partner again, sitting cross-legged, knees touching. Extend your arms and grasp your partner’s forearms.”
We adjust positions, Harper’s grip firm on my forearms as we create a closed circle with our arms.
“Now, maintaining this connection, both partners stand up.”
It takes coordination, but we rise to our feet without breaking contact, or a hip. We’re standing close, arms linked, faces less than a foot apart.
“Beautiful. Now for Flying Lotus. The heavier partner will ground themselves while the lighter partner leans back, creating counter-tension.”
“Ready?”
Harper nods, then slowly leans back, her weight pulling against our linked arms. I counterbalance, keeping her suspended at a 45-degree angle to the floor.
“Trust your partner,” Devi encourages. “Let go of resistance.”
To my surprise, Harper does exactly that—she relaxes into the pose, her body forming a graceful arc, supported entirely by our connection.
“Switch,” Devi calls.
Now it’s my turn to lean back, trusting Harper to support my weight. She’s stronger than she looks, holding me steady despite our size difference. For a moment, we’re balanced, each supporting the other.
“Wonderful,” Devi says. “Now release slowly and return to your mats for the next sequence.”
The “next sequence” turns out to be even more intimate—seated poses with Harper in my lap, then me in hers, followed by synchronized movements that have us flowing around each other like water, always maintaining some point of contact.
To my surprise, Harper takes part. She’s obviously does yoga, her movements fluid and precise. When Devi corrects our form, Harper adjusts without complaint. It’s the longest we’ve spent in each other’s presence without arguing.
“Our final pose,” Devi announces after forty-five minutes of increasingly complex positions, “is Lotus Blossom. Partners, sit facing each other, legs crossed but overlapping so your knees rest in the spaces between your partner’s knees. Take each other’s wrists and lean back.”
We assume the position, our legs interlocked, hands gripping each other’s wrists. It’s the most physically intertwined we’ve been, and I can sense Harper’s tension.
I bite back a smile as Harper processes this—Devi’s played the science card. After a moment of internal struggle visible on her face, Harper places her right hand against my chest. I mirror the action, my palm resting lightly over her heart. Her pulse races beneath my touch.
“Now the left hand,” Devi reminds us.
Harper places her left hand over mine, and I do the same. We’re holding each other’s hands against our chests. Her skin is warm, her fingers slightly calloused—the hands of someone who does fieldwork, not just lab research.
“Close your eyes,” Devi instructs. “Breathe together. Inhale for four counts, hold for four, exhale for six. Feel your partner’s heartbeat. Allow your rhythms to synchronize.”
I close my eyes, focusing on Harper’s pulse beneath my palm. It’s rapid at first, but gradually slows as we breathe together. Despite her obvious discomfort with the situation, she’s following the instructions—inhaling when I do, holding, exhaling slowly.
“The breath is our most intimate connection to life,” Devi says, her voice soft as she moves around the room. “When we share our breath with another, we share our essence.”
I open one eye to find Harper watching me. She closes her eyes when she realizes I’ve caught her.
“Now, maintain that connection as you move into your first pose,” Devi continues. “Partners, please sit with your backs against each other, legs extended in front of you.”
This position is easier—no eye contact, just the press of Harper’s back against mine as we sit up straight. Her posture is impeccable.
“Reach your arms up and back, holding your partner’s hands above your heads.”
We follow the instruction, my hands finding hers in the air above us. Her fingers link with mine.
“Now slowly bend forward, allowing your partner to bend backward, stretching their spine over yours. Then reverse.”
I wait for Harper to resist, but she leans forward, pulling me into a gentle backbend over her. The stretch feels incredible after the obstacle course this morning. When we reverse positions, I support her weight easily as she arches back.
“Great work, everyone,” Devi praises. “Now let’s transition to a more challenging pose. Face your partner again, sitting cross-legged, knees touching. Extend your arms and grasp your partner’s forearms.”
We adjust positions, Harper’s grip firm on my forearms as we create a closed circle with our arms.
“Now, maintaining this connection, both partners stand up.”
It takes coordination, but we rise to our feet without breaking contact, or a hip. We’re standing close, arms linked, faces less than a foot apart.
“Beautiful. Now for Flying Lotus. The heavier partner will ground themselves while the lighter partner leans back, creating counter-tension.”
“Ready?”
Harper nods, then slowly leans back, her weight pulling against our linked arms. I counterbalance, keeping her suspended at a 45-degree angle to the floor.
“Trust your partner,” Devi encourages. “Let go of resistance.”
To my surprise, Harper does exactly that—she relaxes into the pose, her body forming a graceful arc, supported entirely by our connection.
“Switch,” Devi calls.
Now it’s my turn to lean back, trusting Harper to support my weight. She’s stronger than she looks, holding me steady despite our size difference. For a moment, we’re balanced, each supporting the other.
“Wonderful,” Devi says. “Now release slowly and return to your mats for the next sequence.”
The “next sequence” turns out to be even more intimate—seated poses with Harper in my lap, then me in hers, followed by synchronized movements that have us flowing around each other like water, always maintaining some point of contact.
To my surprise, Harper takes part. She’s obviously does yoga, her movements fluid and precise. When Devi corrects our form, Harper adjusts without complaint. It’s the longest we’ve spent in each other’s presence without arguing.
“Our final pose,” Devi announces after forty-five minutes of increasingly complex positions, “is Lotus Blossom. Partners, sit facing each other, legs crossed but overlapping so your knees rest in the spaces between your partner’s knees. Take each other’s wrists and lean back.”
We assume the position, our legs interlocked, hands gripping each other’s wrists. It’s the most physically intertwined we’ve been, and I can sense Harper’s tension.
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