Balanced Being

In each yoga class, there always seems to be an element of practicing balance - or as yogis say sattva. Whether we are balancing on one foot, establishing the breath where the inhalation mirrors the length of the exhalation, or sitting in meditation, one of the goals is to catch a glimpse of the quality of balance and equanimity – you know, it's the state of being calm, stable and composed, especially under stress both on and off the mat.

When you're on your yoga mat there's a quality of Zen accompanied with the choice to turn your world upside down into a Handstand. But in life, when you get knocked off your feet, sometimes it's beyond your control and everything feels more like a dog's life rather than a Downward Dog. You know what I'm talking about. It's that feeling of inner calm that rapidly dissipates when you find yourself in traffic yelling at the $*?!}^%#!/ that cut you off while making interesting hand gestures with your “traffic finger” as they drive by (in yoga, we call these hand gestures mudras). Yogi's are supposed to have levitated beyond the external and the superficial, and I have to say I am no enlightened being - yet.  And, I guess, that's why they call yoga a “practice.”

Determined to keep my cool while wrapping up gifts and the year, this Holiday Season I created my very own 12 days of Christmas: 12 days of yoga.

To: me.

From: me.

While I didn’t quite make it to my mat for twelve consecutive days, I managed eleven. With a regular practice - and when I say regular I don’t necessarily mean a daily practice that drains you, but rather a consistent practice that leaves you with a clarity and zest for life - I found my way merry and bright throughout the holidays and arrived at the doorsteps of 2023 with a sense of balance and inspiration.

My yogic quest has given me glimpses of my best self – and my worst. I've been practicing yoga for about 20 years and I have to say it's been a bumpy road to enlightenment. My idea of Zen includes pampering myself at the Spa for the better part of the day and includes a facial. I'm not going to deny that my yoga outfit matters; I have to feel comfortable. How am I supposed to get into the flow if I'm all bunched up and my shirt is cutting off my shakti (vital energy), right?

Although it's sometimes a challenge, I try to refrain from glaring at rude people who shout into their iPhones in public places; I take a deep breath when my husband is in a “mood” and let him have his moment (without taking it personal or reacting … well, most of the time);  I remain calm when I see a snarling dog on the street (and if not, I fake it); I remember that it’s OK when it feels hard to stand on two feet; instead of getting frustrated, I’ve learned to laugh when I fall out of Tree Pose.

I meditate, practice asanas, perform my pranayama (breathing) exercises and read yogic texts — and I still fall apart in the midst of calamity. There are times where I burn with anger and sink into depression. There are times where the last place I want to be is on my mat. And yet, I stand there. Regularly. To lift myself out of my yogic funk, I practice Sun Salutations (incessantly) praying that the sun will shine and brighten my spirit.

As I explore the physics of flight transitioning from a Down Dog to Handstand, I contemplate the possibilities of seeing my life from a different perspective – to reflect and find a new point of view. I've come to understand that my journey of a yogi is one of discovery. It requires a dedicated practice and a willingness to open to something greater to live a more meaningful and empowering life of freedom and joy.  You have to be a bit crazy, creative, and sensitive. You need to be playful, inventive and patient.  You need balance.

Yoga is a practice.

Back to the mat.

Peace out.