This is the deeper meaning I find in the modern health guideline that recommends adults do “muscle-strengthening activities of moderate or greater intensity involving all major muscle groups on two or more days a week.” The phrase sounds clinical, but what it’s really describing is how we maintain the integrity of the waters that hold us up — how we keep life moving through us.

To open a narrative that has become too tight requires techniques, practices… rituals, even. Sometimes you even throw it in the fire. For us, the unstitching part takes the techniques we know to erase the tracks of time, to aerate what has become sedimented, and to cast on new stitches.

In educational theory, this kind of shared, experiential process is often described as a community of practice: a group bound by shared curiosity, reflection, and embodied participation. Over time, that continuity creates not just learning, but belonging — a place where the community itself becomes the teacher.

Maybe it looks like this— yoga in living rooms, vegetables shared between friends, warmth, community, and practices that connect. Maybe it’s in the small revelations of finding your knee in your armpit, or your fingers woven behind your head…

In the kinesphere, a hang is like a kind of bow, a gesture of humility; with our head down inside the sacred cave of our legs or arms, we hear the echoing reverberation of our breath. We can encircle ourselves with our imagination, and, in doing so, find our center.

I noticed this Thanksgiving that some of the people I follow on social media were talking about being grateful for the things that didn't go as we had hoped. This resonated with me.