My yoga practice is nothing special
Yes, you read that correctly.
My yoga practice was something that used to cause me stress. I worried about my form from the first sun salutation right through to savasana. I wanted to please my teachers. I wanted to show my fellow yogis that I deserved to practice alongside them. If I had a “bad” practice, I had to stop myself from apologizing. If I missed one of my usual classes, I felt like a kid who got caught skipping school.
I sometimes left the studio more frustrated than when I went in.
But for the last year, I’ve been stripping my practice of obligations and expectations. Peeling away the performance anxieties and distancing myself from the ego (both mine and those of teachers who demand tribute).
The beautiful result? I have come to see my yoga practice as nothing special.
I practice yoga 3-4 times a week. It helps to keep my body strong and healthy. It cuts through the chatter in my brain to help me focus on writing. It also nurtures my sense of love and compassion.
But I also ride bikes and share meals with friends. I visit my parents and play with dogs. I read good books and take naps in the afternoon. All of these things also keep my body strong and healthy. They help cut through the chatter in my brain, as well as nurture my sense of love and compassion.
My yoga practice is part of a constellation of moments that fill my life. I love it immensely, but it does not define me. It is not the be-all-and-end-all of my existence, but I am grateful every time I step on the mat. Because it is nothing special, it is a source of joy for me, before, during and after.
Isn’t that what the practice should be?