I’ve been into yoga on and off for several years now. In my mind, it really started with the purchase of the book Yoga Body, Buddha Mind by Cyndi Lee, but I really can’t recall how I heard of the book or why I decided to buy it. Regardless, it was probably one of my better decisions. Though I’ve hardly been consistent in my practice over the years, yoga is one of few things I feel completely dedicated to. Meaning, it has always felt right for me. I’ve never felt like a faker when it comes to yoga, never felt like I was trying to shove something into my life that just didn’t belong.
Which isn’t to say that I’m some kind of yoga prodigy. My heels don’t touch the floor in down dog, I struggle with focus when I’m out of practice, I have to really concentrate to get my breath and movements to work together. But if yoga has taught me anything, it’s that all of this is just fine. That it’s more about the intention and the effort than the perfection of poses.
I guess yoga once a week sounds like a pretty lame goal. It’s not too much of a challenge. But I know me, and I know that the whole point of a goal is to set something doable. And this is doable for now. Easing my way into something of a regular practice again. Baby steps to lead me to something more substantial. And that’s just fine, too.