The Reward is the Journey

A series of recent conversations and coincidences discovered along the way have prompted me to navigate the not uncomplicated pathway to log back in to this Blog. It has been like meeting and sitting down for a cup of tea with an old friend.  Well, a pot of tea, perhaps.   Whilst I have continued writing since last posting in this forum, I have done so far less regularly, despite being anything short of inspiration. And so, without any pledge or commitment, but rather with an intention to pursue with curiosity something which feels to call to me in this moment, I am delighted to begin again. As I do so, the below words of a poem I have read aloud a great many times, to myself and into circles during mindfulness trainings, come to mind. “Begin” Begin again to the summoning birds to the sight of the light at the window, begin to the roar of morning traffic all along Pembroke Road. Every beginning is a promise born in light and dying in dark determination and exaltation of s...

I have had a cold since Boxing Day. Having been celebrating my apparently indestructible immune system in the lead up to Christmas, I fell at the first hurdle and have been limping ever since.  My friend and colleague Sarah tripped on New Year's Eve and fractured her fifth metatarsal.  Our workshop could not be better timed... 'Shattered but still whole' has been something of a mantra for me at different times:  the challenges life throws at us can often feel to shatter the bodymind, mindfulness has helped me to remain connected to a sense of wholeness, come what may. The opportunity to practice alongside others is always a privilege.  Yesterday's workshop which we had given the title 'Let it Begin with Me' at the dawn of the new year was a particular pleasure, and I enjoyed the opportunity to reflect on what we do when we set our intentions - both for our practice and beyond. Intentions, like seeds, are what we plant, in the service of an eventual yi...

I have flirted with many.  I have dipped my toe in, and tested them for size.  But this weekend, I met my match. I have, I think, found a style of yoga that really speaks to me.  And, even better, I have found my tribe.  I spent this weekend, surrounded by others who speak my language:  Ours is the language of xi, fascia, meridians and Sanskrit.   Yin prioritises function over aesthetics.  It is about the HOW rather than the WHAT.  And this is why I have fallen in love.   I am never going to be super bendy.  I have plenty of strength, and whilst I will, if I continue to practice regularly, develop greater flexibility I need to acknowledge my mechanical limitations.  These are non-negotiable.  They are, after all, part of my genetic inheritance:  I was not born to bendy folk.   But within those limitations, I can still achieve a perfect practice.  For this is where the subtle but all important...