I try to focus on my inhale and exhale, but it's damn near impossible. I feel like a creeper, staring at Collette every five seconds. I hope I’m not being obvious. But she is perfect, and her skin is literally flawless in real life. The whole time I thought it was filters and great editing. I can’t help but sneak peeks at her as she moves. Her form is impeccable. Meanwhile, my balance is all off, and I’m wobbling like a drunk flamingo.
So much for focus and reset.
Alicia calls out warrior two. I sink into the stance, thighs screaming and arms trembling.
I glance over, and of course Collette looks like she’s posing for a fashion spread, serene and unbothered. Not even a bead of sweat. I grit my teeth and try to get into my zone. Yoga usually comes pretty easy to me, but today I feel like an amateur.
Note to self: do not do yoga the morning after drinking yourself into oblivion.
“You’re doing well,” Alicia shouts to us both. I almost blow out a breath. By the time we reach savasana, I’m so tense from trying to stay focused that I can barely compose myself.
“Alright,” Alicia says gently after a moment. “Let your body settle. Close your eyes and breathe.”
I do exactly as she says, settling myself and letting my body and mind grow still. I listen to the waves roll in and out as the sun finally begins to rise, brightening the sky. For a few quiet minutes, the only movement is the breeze moving through the palms above us.
Ah!There she is.
My peace.
I let the sun warm my face, my body finally rooting itself in the calm of the morning.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Alicia continues softly, “begin to bring awareness back into your body.”
We sit there for a minute or two before Alicia thanks us for our time and patience. “Namaste,” she smiles gracefully.
“Namaste,” Collette and I repeat.
I take a second to roll up my mat, working up the courage to say something. Collette glances my way as she rolls up her mat and tucks it under her arm.
I take advantage of the moment and work up some courage.
“Hi. Um, Collette Randolph,right?”
“Yes, hello.”
When she confirms my suspicions, I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my God, wow! I thought that was you.”
“The one and only,” she teases.
“I just want to say I’ve admired your work for years. Everything you’ve built, everything you’ve done. It’s just so remarkable!”
Collette smiles, flashing the whitest set of teeth I’ve ever seen.
“What’s your name, darling?”
“Oh,” I laugh, softly. “I’m Marley Jacobs.”
“Marley Jacobs? The creator ofMod? I adore your magazine. It’s beautifully curated.”
I’m jolted into silence.
Stunned.
All I can do is blink. When the boulder that feels like it has been lodged in my throat removes itself, I laugh in disbelief. “Wait, wait, wait. You’ve read my magazine?”
“Well, honey, who hasn’t? Your magazine is making quite a name for itself.
Stunned.Beyondstunned.
