Rebecca Horrigan teaches her class from her home in Santa Barbara, due to the coronavirus. | Credit: Daniel Dreifuss

“It’s Sunday today, right?” I ask my roomies with a smile, peeking up from under our dusty coffee table. We’re in the midst of another quarantine cleaning project, scrubbing away to pass the time.

“It’s Saturday!” they laugh excitedly. My heart sinks a little.

Although this isn’t my typical weekend mindset, teaching has often been a balm to soothe the wounds of life. Through breakups, anxieties, or natural disasters, its healing power never fails to get me out of my head and into the present moment. 

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