For three generations, women in my family have had low back problems that required surgery. My great-grandmother and grandmother each suffered a herniated disc; my mom has degenerative disc disease, which has led to four surgeries and years of debilitating pain. Needless to say, when--at age 23--I developed excruciating pain in my low back, I thought it was my fate. I went to my general practitioner, who also specialized in sports medicine. I explained my family history and described my symptoms. He seemed less interested in the family history than in my lifestyle. My weight had started to increase slightly, from 143 at age 20 to about 160 three years later. I worked second shift five nights a week as a newspaper copy editor. I loved my job, but I often slept until noon and stayed up until 4 a.m. I had joined a gym but was usually too tired to go. I honestly expected the doctor to tell me that I had ruptured a disc or would require surgery. Instead, he prescribed physical therapy and told me that the primary cause of my pain was a weak core. Essentially, he sent me to Pilates reformer training to build up strength. He subtly hinted that more exercise could help me. Though I didn't take the doctor's advice to heart, it did plant a seed. Back then, I moved at two angles through life: 90 degrees and 180 degrees. I lay down in bed all night; sat on the couch, at a table, or in a car all day; and at a desk all evening. Bending over to tie my shoes or occasionally stretching were the only times I moved in unexpected ways. At a recent yoga workshop with Astanga master David Swenson he half-joked that one of the reasons we in the west have knee and joint problems is because of our toilets. Without traditional squat toilets, we never need to bend past 90 degrees. While that might just be an anecdotal observation, it rang true. Think about how most of us move throughout the day. In two planes: horizontal and vertical. We sit or we stand. Anything that deviates from the normal movement is socially unacceptable in public. We don't like to sit on the ground without a protective layer. We much prefer to sit on furniture. Like puppets, we have limited ranges of motion, primarily sharp and jerky movements. A few years back, I decided to break free. I shed the excess weight, started moving more and feeling better. Today there are few limits to how my body can move, and my back pain is nonexistent. A couple of years ago, I became comfortable enough with myself and my yoga practice to take it off the mat and into the world. These days, I try to venture beyond the normal realms of movement, even in public. Not only does it make my body happier, but I feel like I'm spreading good energy along the way. A new tradition for me is to take photos of myself practicing yoga in each place I travel. I've held: Seated half-bound lotus at the "bean" in Chicago's Millenium Park  Dancer in Chicago and the SparkPeople Convention   Wheel pose all over Turkey and on the steps outside the Rodin Museum in Philadelphia in 19 degree weather   Lotus pose that same day, and atop a rock overlooking the Sea of Marmara in Turkey, where I also held Warrior 2 and reverse plank     Camel pose amid ancient Roman ruins at Ephesus (this blog's main photo) And tree pose amid olive trees as far as the eye can see.  Urban or rural travel, domestic or international, yoga in the world is a fun way for me to connect with the places I visit. Whether you decide to squat on the ground (as I've been known to do when my legs get tired of standing) or hold tree pose as you wait in line at the supermarket (a great way to practice balance), I challenge you, during National Yoga Month, to also break down those boundaries and move however your body will allow! It's not about perfect form, the perfect pose, or even the perfect picture (there have been even more yoga poses that have gone undocumented--and countless sun salutations to soothe travel-wearied muscles--it's about celebrating YOUR body and what it can do! Do you ever take your yoga practice "off the mat"? 
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