Literature. Language. And a lust for yoga: Kate’s trifecta of curiosity

I am a voracious reader and love spending nowhere-to-be-afternoons in the company of great - or, sometimes merely 'okay' - literature. I have a deep affection for Fitzgerald, Vonnegut, and Cormac McCarthy - and my heart-on for Hemingway is both cliche and crushing, as I believe the poignant precision of his prose is absolute mastery. He was a Maverick, and perhaps literature's last of his kind. Similar in structure, yet long-winded in a way that remains succinct (and still living), Chuck Klosterman folds fact into fiction like everyone you know who's ever retold a time-old-tale-turned-nostalgic anecdote - but better. Killing Yourself to Live rivals A River Runs Through It (Norman Maclean) in a quest for the crown as my most favorite work of literature; in fact, I've loaned out cop(ies) of KYTL so many times I now hoard paperbacks in bulk. (If you haven't read it, you should. It's his best work.) Beyond the beautiful curation of language arrangement, I'm drawn to non-fiction titles in the psychology, cosmology, and eastern philosophy genres - with a tip-of-the-hat to history, as told by Erik Larson, and astronomy, like Carl Sagan's study of the stars.

And what is prose without a nod to poetry? Frost and Emerson are a given - and Kahlil Gibran is worth mentioning because my now-profound, spiritual curiosity began with The Prophet - yet, it's the voice of Raymond Carver I cherish most. (See what I did?) I liken Carver to indie music: unlike the rhythmic, patterned tropes of “rhyme poetry,” Carver’s voice is simple, yet direct, and conveys more with much less. Just as music isn’t pigeon-holed to power chords - thank God - poetry isn’t limited to alternate-rhyme variations or sonnet. Authenticity isn’t born of sameness. While I appreciate the craft of rhyme, I prefer poets (and authors) who challenge the rules of structure and find cadence through play, with word choice and grammar. I like rebels, innovators, and mavericks. I want to feel a writer come alive and drown me in reminders of what it means to be alive.

Alongside reading, my passion for words manifests in writing. I write because I have something to say, and I'm wild for the carefully-curated transformation of verbal expression into pictures for the mind's eye. I've been stringing words into sentences since I was big enough to hold a Crayola in my tiny, child hand. Now, decades later, my hands are still tiny and my sentences? Much longer. I favor short stories and personal essays - which, at most, are nothing more than organized assortments of musings, grievances, and intellectual curiosity. (Think human interest meets op-ed, with a kick of emotionally accessible vulnerability.) To convey an idea, layered with imagery - or share a story, rich in metaphor - is only half the battle. It's the reader whose imagination becomes art - the writer simply provides a paintbrush.

And finally, though no less important or interesting, the remaining piece of my personal trifecta: yoga. Yoga keeps my wild, sensitive soul in check. I am an avid practitioner and RYT 500 certified teacher, with training in Iyengar, alignment vinyasa, yin, and yoga nidra. My personal practice is rooted in vinyasa, and I teach a cocktail of vinyasa+yin+meditation with emphasis on somatic body work - a combination which works wonders with stress and anxiety. My offering as a teacher is heavily influenced by what I’ve experienced as a yogi - and by the work I’ve done to eradicate unnecessary turbulence in my own life. My relationship with asana inspired a deep sink in self-examination, which built the foundation for my spiritual walkabout. I’m well-acquainted with stress and had an intimate relationship with anxiety through most of my 20s. I’ve learned so much and still have so far to go - and I’m grateful for every moment on this not-always-pleasant, lifelong journey. I’ve learned more about myself in confrontation with adversity, than any truth I assumed in moments of tranquility. I am human and I am flawed - yoga offers an invitation to look within and find comfort with that flawed humanness. From comfort, acknowledgement and from acknowledgement, growth.

Above all else, learning is my most powerful fascination. (Have you gathered as much?) Though secure in my tendency to deliver lengthy monologues - with an obvious affection for alliteration - if I've lost you somewhere in my verbose rambles, I hope you can resonate with the following: I am an insatiably curious girl. I possess a penchant for the pursuit of knowledge, which fuels my pursuits of passion. I am deeply invested in personal development and a devout practitioner of self-inquiry. Literature, language, and a lust for yoga - the trifecta which nourishes discovery, learning, and deep understanding. Why? Because the world is wild and full of wonderment, and I long to get lost in chase of curiosity.

Are you curious about the connection between breath and body, or seasoned in your own asana/meditation practice? I relish any opportunity to share my knowledge and experience with you, and welcome any questions or insight. (A perk for those who book extended engagements and/or travel, you get a girlfriend and a yoga instructor bundled inside one green-eyed brunette. Deal of the decade.)