The other day, when I was entering the rec center for a class, I passed a woman who was just heading out. She had a long blond ponytail, and over her shoulder was a purple yoga bag with her mat strapped underneath. Following close behind her was her adorable “mini me”—a little girl, about 5 or 6, with a long blond ponytail, toting a rolled-up pink yoga mat almost as big as she was.
A guest post from Two Fit Moms.
It’s a new year — a new school year that is — and time to get back to the books! It’s also a great time to get back on track fitness-wise. What better time than now to also get your kids involved in your yoga practice. Kids are naturally interested in any activity that they see their parents doing — at least ours are — so, we bet they will be super excited to practice yoga with you.
France is my happy place. I don’t know if I can even describe it, but France just has a certain je ne sais quoi that makes me feel at home.
A guest post from Pre and Postnatal yoga and fitness expert, Desi Bartlett.
We’re proud to announce a new way for you to practice—anywhere with an internet connection. We’ve teamed up with iTunes to bring you our first digital-only yoga program. No DVD player needed, just sign into iTunes, download the program you’d like and get to work, from wherever you are.
You haven’t practiced yoga in a month. Your meditation practice has become sporadic at best. And that vegan diet you were going to maintain all summer? That lasted two days before you dove into that pint of Rocky Road.
Life is busy. Between work, the commute to and from work, taking care of a family and participating in extracurricular activities, there is hardly time to maintain a regular yoga practice.
For the majority of us, work and our commute take up most of our time on an average day, so wouldn’t it be nice to throw in some yoga and mindfulness in the few open spaces you can squeeze in?
“Patience is not learned in safety.” -Pema Chodron
Spring tests my patience. Every single year. Especially here in Colorado, as the weather whips back and forth between snow and sun, and as calm mornings give way to blustery afternoons, my patience is tried every spring. I become anxious for warmer, more stable weather.
Every spring, I am reminded once again that I am not in control. Patience is the only way through.
We humans, though, don’t learn patience the easy way. We don’t learn patience when things are going our way. Rather, we learn patience when we are tested, and when we finally have to accept that we can’t control the world.
As a child, my bicycle meant freedom: the freedom to get where I wanted to go quickly, and the freedom to roam, to explore, to savor. Nowhere in my childhood mostly spent on two wheels was there a helmet.
I live for my morning cup of coffee. Sometimes I get excited about going to bed at night just because it means I can wake up and drink coffee. When my alarm goes off, I climb into my terrycloth robe and shuffle downstairs, my dog Ellie at my heels. I savor every part of my morning ritual, from the first whiff of the ground beans as I scoop them out of their tin, to the quiet sitting while I wait for my coffee to brew. I take my mug to the couch and prepare for the first sip, which feels like my own private moment with God. Ellie puts her head on my lap and we sit there in silence in our little church by the window.
This sacred time gives me the space to be with myself; it encourages me to listen to me — the voices in my head are too sleepy to chime in with their usual agenda and commentary. And that’s a good thing because I like to spend my mornings doing nothing in particular. If I’m in the mood, I’ll putter around my house and tend to this or that. Maybe I’ll water the plants . . . or not. Maybe I’ll write . . . or not. The rest of my day is directed by obligation — things I have to do, or “should” do — which makes the guiltless moments of my morning feel even more precious.
Our home practice can be a lot like my cherished morning time. No one telling us what to do. No agenda to follow. It’s just you and your breath in that vehicle we call the body, cruisin’ wherever you wanna go.