Looking Back at my Practice

Yoga happens in the awareness of a deep breath amidst work calls. Yoga happens in the silence that calms a reactive mind. Yoga happens in the compassion and care I extend to others whenever possible.

When I took my first yoga class, I wish I knew that I was making one of the best decisions ever. Before that day, I probably didn’t understand the meaning of the word “perseverance” and “consistency.” I was too young and distracted to really appreciate the gift that was presented to me.

Nonetheless, I stuck around and practiced consistently without really knowing the impact that would have on every aspect of my life.

I remember being fascinated by how the colors looked brighter after class, the depth of my breath after practicing, and how sweet the ocean breeze felt on my skin.

Yoga showed up in my life when there was no home.

No family.

No stability.

No focus.

And in a way, no attachments.

I was rebuilding my life in a different country. I was alone, and yoga became my companion on this journey. It was the only place where I felt loved, welcomed, and whole.

I remember the joy of finding an activity that was pure goodness and how positively that affected my life. I didn’t know that yoga would lovingly mold the adult I am today.

Looking back at my practice, I no longer need a yoga mat to know that yoga is there for me and within me.

Yoga happens in the awareness of a deep breath amidst work calls.

Yoga happens in the silence that calms a reactive mind.

Yoga happens in the compassion and care I extend to others whenever possible.

I continue to practice postures. But the postures are just a tiny part of an immense world of wisdom. As I flow through movement, I also enjoy the quiet moments of stillness.

Looking back at my practice, I was given a gift without even knowing it. These days I am more conscious that my practice is here to stay. My practice will always continue to change and evolve. My practice will always surprise me. And my practice will always be my refuge.