I remember the first time I tried Yin Yoga. It was over 12 years ago, and I lived in the UK then. Across the road from us was a yoga studio. Curiosity led me to venture over and try some classes. I had no idea what Yin Yoga was and was very surprised when the teacher asked us to hold the pose.

There was one particular pose we held that involved applying weight and pressure to our toes for about a minute. Never had I felt such discomfort. This feeling had me reeling as I held the pose, my mind starting noising and chattering. Resistance disguised as questions flowed through me. Why am I doing this? What is this stupid practice? Does this teacher enjoy inflicting pain? One minute felt like an eternity. I want to tell you that I then moved past this resistance, and the rest is history, but that's not my story.

At the end of the class, I got out of there as fast as possible. What had just happened? I decided at that moment never to do that stupid practice again.

But then I changed my mind.

A few years later while living in New Zealand, I was doing a very different practice - CrossFit. I was in full active mode - squatting more than my body weight, climbing ropes to the ceiling. I loved it, but my body needed some care. My coach suggested Yin Yoga as a counterbalance. I wasn't sure about returning to 'the stupid practice,' but I held a lot of respect for my coach, so I tried it again.

This time it was different. I had been pushing myself hard through CrossFit - sometimes training twice daily to get a weight-lifting personal best on the scoreboard. Now as I held the pose, I felt the shift into stillness. The contrast to CrossFit was all-consuming. I was exploring my edge but with gentleness and kindness.

This new self-gentleness and kindness followed me to Bali. It was the move here that formed my bond with Yin. Every Sunday, I would go to 'Church,' as I called it. Each time I showed up, I learned to find my edge and sink deeper and deeper into the stillness.

A few years ago, I qualified as a Yin Yoga teacher. The principles I learned are now embedded into my being. These principles are: find the edge, hold the position, be in the stillness, and be gentle. These are not exclusive to Yin Yoga and are weaving into other parts of my life. It is this weaving that is my temple. Throughout my day, I take moments to stop entirely and be in my temple. Sometimes these moments last an hour or more, but they can also last just a minute or two.

The beauty of being in your temple is that it doesn't matter how long you are there. All that matters is that you be still, even if it's just for a few moments.