The Mat
Light falls softly on the cedar planks of our deck in the evenings - our golden oasis set beneath an endless, vivid sky.
ADVENTURE ART CLUB | DAY 16 | 9.16
YOGA AT SUNSET
MISSOULA, MT
I often come out here in the mornings in Spring with my yoga mat and intention in tow, but lately my mindfulness practice has fallen by the wayside. Sometimes I’m okay with this fluctuation, thinking “I’ll pick it back up when I need it.” Other times, I’m regretful and deeply disappointed at my lack of consistency. I know I would benefit from a constant meditation and movement practice.
This Summer, I stopped doing yoga when life got too busy, my body felt broken, and the heat kept driving me indoors. Every Summer in recent memory has been hotter and hotter (thanks to our collectively harmful, misguided actions), and I’ve felt it. So has the rest of the planet. It’s brutal.
I know I could have used this re-centering in a few busy months of conflicting priorities. When I most need them, I tend to avoid the skills and practices that would help me the most…. Why is that, I wonder?
Today, I step out on the deck with Scout by my side (a mindful teacher in his own right) to pick up my practice. I find it just where I left it, waiting for me here on the planks in the evening. I’m struck by this rendezvous set in another time of transition.
Once constant in the Spring, my yoga practice here, suspended in air, was a celebration of the birds’ return, warm temperatures, and the world’s re-awakening. Now in Autumn, my yoga practice finds me again to mark the gathering of the birds before leaving, the chill in the air meeting golden sun, and the bounteous bliss that comes with the land’s final offerings to us before Winter.
Harvest is a time of celebration, and of marking how far we have come in months prior. It offers a pause to reflect on the work and activity that led us to this moment. We gather together and celebrate all of life’s goodness. In Fall, I think of what I have gained, what I have lost, and what lies ahead to discover in slowness… Tonight, I set an intention: Presence. I just want to be here, for once. I am always ahead of myself and running to catch her.
As I settle into the flow of a video from my favorite teacher (Yoga with Adriene), I’m struck with the beautiful blue of my mat reflecting the exact shade of blue from the sky above me. My body is held in this liminal space, where nothing else matters. I find flow here, paying attention to transitions.
I noticed this Spring that in yoga flows, I used to push my body into poses, jerking from one to the next as if they were separate moments. A. B. C. D…. But, lately, take greater care with transitions, meeting my body where it’s at that day, listening, and moving fluidly. I adapt the pose when I need to without question and often break away from instruction that doesn’t suit me. I’m more able to find my center in breathing, dropping into a flow of in-out almost instantly. I’m more able to find presence in practice. Intuition leads. I give myself what I need. Maybe for the first time, I know what that is, in the moment.
Yoga practice, like creating, allows me to momentarily forget distraction or worry and settle into experience. I respond intuitively to what lies before me. Product is less important than process. Outcome is just a byproduct of practice.
As I close today’s movement, I bow my head to the birdsong around me, the blue sky that reminds me I’m boundless, the trees present here as boards beneath feet, and the heart of my being, connected.
Today’s sketch briefly honors the pool of intention I stand on in practice, here, in a place that I love. It captures the rich blues of nature that light up any gray space that we find ourselves. I tuck the drawing away with an internal bow, knowing I’ve revived something tonight - a sense of the places I travel inside. Adventures within are the most limitless.
I’ll be back tomorrow.
Love & Gratitude,
- Christina
