I’ve practiced yoga for few years. I wish I had time to dedicate myself to a Hatha practice more often. I wish I could get out my mat and come to a seated position each morning or night. But it recently dawned on me: yoga isn’t all about being on a mat. Yoga fits into many parts (all parts) of life, if only you open your mind to that possibility.
I may not practice asanas every day (or even every week lately), but I carry within myself the desire to fold all of yoga into my entire life. When my feet hit the mat, I’m overwhelmed with the sense of peace and the largeness of the world that is within my own body and mind. My heart rate slows. My breathing deepens. My body sinks into the earth while also rising toward sky – I become longer, stronger, and settled in mind and spirit.
And…shocking as this might sound…I’m learning how to achieve these feelings when I’m not on my beloved sticky mat.
I’m lucky enough to have another practice in my life that uncovers my “true nature” and goes beyond the limits of mind and personality. Writing, in fact, helps make my potential infinite.
Doesn’t writing – and reading, for that matter – transcend individual minds and our sense of self? When you write, do you have a sense of moving out of your own self – and becoming part of something larger, more infinite, more mysterious?
Stories are, in my mind, the very life blood of our existence. Without a story, who are we? Writing stories – whether they are our own or stories from our minds – is like yoga in practice. Or it can be.
Open your mind. Sink into Earth. Tell your story.