Author: HFY

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Look with new eyes

Unsettled sky

I have a new student who has come to yoga seeking help in managing chronic pain and stress.  We often talk before and after class, and I try to provide a welcoming space where she can share her thoughts and fears, where she can develop and explore a practice that will nourish and support her.  In my years of teaching so far, I have encountered wide ranging stories of what first drew students to the practice of yoga, and I have found that pain and stress management are quite commonly cited.  For those of you who are long-time practitioners, I am certain you can remember a time when your practice was a friend and ally that supported you through challenges with your health, whether it was an injury, an illness, or emotional turbulence that required yoga’s sage and patient guidance.  No matter the reason we first step onto the yogic path, we quickly discover its myriad benefits if we are paying attention, and we learn to weave its lessons into the way we live our lives, and the way we treat ourselves and others.

All of our life experiences inform the way we perceive the world around us.  When we allow ourselves to be open and receptive, when we approach each moment with curiosity, these perceptions can be fluid and flexible; rather than being bound by a rigid set of assumptions and expectations, we are free to experience whatever new possibilities arise, allowing them to enrich and expand our perspectives on the world.  That being said, if you have ever experienced a debilitating chronic condition – depression, anxiety, auto-immune disease, neurological disorder, chronic pain from any number of sources – there might be times when it feels like those assumptions and expectations are what’s keeping you afloat.  With the student I mentioned above, she has become accustomed to describing her condition and symptoms in a particular way, evaluating and rating her pain in a particular way, viewing all aspects of her life through the specific lens of her condition.  She has been practicing mindfulness for many years, since long before her diagnosis, and it has provided a great measure of comfort and ease amidst the pain and uncertainty.  However, like any ritual or routine that we embrace, I believe that even practices that are intended to be mindful can become rote, done on auto-pilot, without truly and fully connecting to the present moment – particularly when that moment includes pain and suffering.

One of the qualities we cultivate through our practice is resilience. We learn to find equanimity and calm amidst a storm of sensation or emotion. We learn to sit with unease and discomfort and accept it as part of our experience. In a recent class I was talking about resilience and how our practice teaches us to distinguish between pain and discomfort – in terms of our asana practice, determining what we can sit with and what might need a modification to ensure we are not heading towards injury. After class, this student asked how we make that determination – she is experiencing some level of pain all the time so how does she differentiate between one pain and another? I suggested that she try changing her vocabulary around pain. She is so used to characterizing pain for her doctors and attaching a numerical value to express its intensity that those labels and judgments could become shackles that prevent her from moving beyond the pain. By releasing the labels, by accepting that all of it is simply sensation, she can then approach whatever she might be feeling with a greater sense of openness and curiosity, observing sensations without judging them, and without tying them to past stories and expectations. The idea of not labelling the pain was a revelation – a new idea that could help release an old pattern no longer serving a useful purpose.

When we meditate, spending time with the natural rise and fall of our breath and body sensations, we can open ourselves to the endless possibilities that exist in each moment. If we keep returning to assumptions and labels we have used in the past, they will limit how and what we perceive, they will limit our ability to grow and flourish, to become resilient and strong. Our practice is one of continuously letting go, placing our full attention on the moment as it arises and then releasing it completely so we have space to invite the next moment into our awareness.

I invite you to observe your own practice and notice what you find. Do you see well-worn patterns, labels and reactions and expectations that arise automatically? What changes could you make, what new ideas could you explore to invite a fresh perspective? As Marcel Proust advised, “The real voyage of discovery consists, not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” Look upon yourself and the world around you with new eyes, and see what discoveries await.

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Dolce far niente

Laurentian sunset

I love listening to the Italian language. It has a lyrical quality that makes even the most mundane phrase sound beautiful. It’s always spoken with such passion, I cannot help but be riveted.  I was first introduced to the phrase dolce far niente in a book – Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, which then became a film where I could hear the words spoken aloud in that scintillating, sultry way.  As beautiful as it sounds, its meaning is even more enticing: the sweetness of doing nothing.  Dolce far niente is more than a simple turn of phrase for Italians; it is a way of being, a way of living, a way of connecting to the joy and brightness of each moment.  To me, dolce far niente is the epitome of mindfulness, as it embodies one of the pillars of our practice: non-doing.

So much of our time is spent ‘doing’. We make plans, we complete tasks, we check things off our to-do lists – that’s DONE, I’ve been productive, good for me!  While, of course, we need to do things – our very survival depends upon it – I have come to believe that it is equally vital for us to incorporate some healthy doses of non-doing and undoing into our daily life.  To live mindfully, we invite awareness into the tasks we complete each day, and this helps us stay connected to the present moment rather than becoming mired in past regrets and future worries.  That same mindful awareness can also ground and connect us when we are doing nothing in particular at all.  For example, your lunch break arrives and you head outside to sit on a park bench and enjoy some fresh air while you eat. You eat your food mindfully, noticing its taste and texture in your mouth, the feel of it in your hands, the transition from a sensation of hunger to one of fullness. As you savour the last bite, you might be inclined to reach for your phone to clear out a few emails, or you might have brought a book to read or a podcast to listen to.  These things can certainly all be done with the same mindful awareness you practiced while eating your lunch – but what if you decided instead to spend some time doing nothing at all? What if you simply sat on that park bench and allowed each moment to unfurl before you, in its own time and its own way, without judgment or attachment or expectations, without self-talk telling you to ‘do’ something with your time?

In a previous post, I touched on the healing benefits of finding stillness, of allowing ourselves the opportunity to simply do nothing (check it out here, along with the video of a wonderful TED Talk by Pico Iyer on the art of stillness).  When we let go of the need to always be ‘doing’, we open ourselves to the limitless possibilities that each moment brings. We luxuriate in the moment, we experience it fully without any ideas or expectations about what it must be.  Releasing ourselves, even briefly, from our incessant need to do and accomplish and produce, enables us to be truly and profoundly present. We can bask in the glow of each moment as it unfolds, we can feel its warmth and its joy, we can savour the sweetness of doing nothing at all.

Wishing you a day filled with simple joys and quiet moments for dolce far niente.

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Season of the heart

Waterlilies in a Japanese garden

Summer has arrived! If you live in the Northern Hemisphere, June 21st marked the first day of summer. According to Traditional Chinese Medicine, the season of summer is associated with the Heart and Small Intestine. It is a season of decidedly Yang energy when we are often more active and engaged, travelling and exploring, spending time outdoors. In spring, we make plans, we plant seeds and put down roots, and when summer comes we see our gardens grow and flourish. Summer is an opportunity to live from the heart, to play with our edges and explore outside our comfort zone.

For the last few weeks I have been absent from this space – my apologies! I have been busy making plans of my own, planting and tending to seeds that are very soon to blossom. The changing seasons are natural times of transition for us, and with the arrival of summer I am transitioning to a new home. I am not moving to a new city this time, only to the other side of my current one – though in a city like Toronto, moving to the other side of town can almost feel that way, as this is a city of diverse neighbourhoods, each with its own unique and wonderful qualities.

We are generally creatures of habit. We enjoy our routines, our familiar patterns, our favourite people and places and things. When we are presented with a transition – either by Mother Nature with our changing seasons, by our own choices and actions, or through unexpected developments in our life – we can choose to view it as an opportunity and embrace the possibilities it may bring. For many people, the arrival of spring is an opportunity to do some ‘spring cleaning’, clearing out the unwanted, unused, unnecessary things that we have collected. We might do this in our physical environment by deep cleaning our homes, giving old clothes and items we no longer need to charities so that others may benefit from them. We can also do some spring cleaning in our inner environment, releasing old judgments, beliefs, expectations, habits; we let go of what no longer serves us so that we can make space instead for things that nourish and inspire us.

If spring is a season of clearing out the old, summer is a season to welcome what is new. What new ideas, activities, and healthy habits can you invite into your daily life this summer? What new places can you explore, even in your own town or neighbourhood? Though sometimes it may feel like we are unable to change, like changing our familiar routines and patterns would be impossibly challenging, humans are strong and resilient beings and we are capable of much more than we think. The idea of stepping outside our comfort zone might be intimidating, but it is the way we grow and learn and flourish in this life. (I touched on the benefits of exploring outside our comfort zone in an earlier post and shared a wonderful little graphic and one of my favourite quotes from Mark Twain. Check it out here.)

So often we make our decisions based entirely on what our mind tells us is the right thing to do. What about our heart? It is within our heart that we connect to our intuition; it is within our heart that we find our wisest, truest self. This truest self is Atman, our essential being, our higher consciousness. Atman is timeless and ageless, the universal self that never changes and is unaffected by the material world. When we are guided by this deep inner wisdom instead of by the expectations and judgments of the external world, we cannot take a wrong step. When we listen to our heart, we can move freely, confidently, open and receptive to all that awaits us on our journey.

As we move into summer, let this be a time to nourish your heart and heed its advice. Let yourself be guided by the wisdom of your intuition. As Rumi said, “I have been a seeker and I still am but I stopped asking the books and the stars. I started listening to the teaching of my soul.” May we all be so wise and forge a deep, abiding connection to the wisdom that lies within.

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The student’s journey

Yogacharya B.K.S. Iyengar

During seventy-three years of teaching and practising, I have observed that some students pay attention only to the physical aspect of yoga. Their practice is like a fast-flowing stream, tumbling and falling, which lacks depth and direction. By attending to the mental and spiritual side, a sincere student of yoga becomes like a smoothly flowing river which helps to irrigate and fertilize the land around it. Just as one cannot dip into the same river twice, so each and every asana refreshes your life force with new energy.

~BKS Iyengar, in Yoga: The Path to Holistic Health


I recently had the good fortune to attend a screening of a documentary entitled Iyengar: The Man, Yoga, and The Student’s Journey. Filmed before his passing in 2014, its release last year honoured the 100th anniversary of his birth. The film was inspiring on so many levels, and though it provided less insight into Mr. Iyengar’s early years than I had hoped for, it more than made up for it through stories of the profound effects his teachings have had on so many lives. I was particularly pleased to see Father Joe Pereira featured with his Kripa Foundation work that brings the healing benefits of Iyengar yoga to those suffering from addiction and HIV/AIDS (you may recall an earlier post I wrote about Father Joe and what an extraordinary experience it is to study with him). For me, some of the most memorable scenes in the film involve Mr. Iyengar’s granddaughter, Abhijata. We see her practicing asana intensely, with strict guidance and adjustments from her grandfather and other teachers, and she tells us, “It appears my grandfather teaches me asanas, but if I had to sum it up now, he is teaching me how to search for meaning in anything I do. He is teaching me huge concepts.” This is the true essence of yoga.

Most often we come to yoga through asana, the postures, and we arrive on our mat expecting a purely physical practice. However, if we are paying attention, we realise that the postures are merely a gateway, leading to a vast expanse of knowledge and exploration and connection. We begin a journey that lasts a lifetime, slowly peeling back the layers to reveal our innermost self, to attain what Mr. Iyengar called true alignment: “Yoga helps to integrate the mental and physical plane, bringing about a sense of inner and outer balance, or what I term alignment. True alignment means that the inner mind reaches every cell and fibre of the body.” This journey towards true alignment begins on our mat, but it does not remain there – the lessons we learn in each and every practice, through each and every asana, begin to colour and shape how we view and interact with the world around us.

Mr. Iyengar defined yoga as “the union of the individual self with the universal self.” His teachings embodied the eight-limbed path set out in the Yoga Sutra by the sage Patanjali: Yama (ethical behaviour), Niyama (restraint/discipline), Asana (posture), Pranayama (expansion of vital energy, the breath), Pratyahara (detachment of the senses), Dharana (focused attention), Dhyana (prolonged concentration, meditation), Samadhi (“when the knower, the knowable, and the known become one”). Deep exploration of this eight-limbed path takes a lifetime (or many lifetimes), but I believe that we can be forever changed even by taking the first step on this path: by embracing the first Yama, Ahimsa. Ahimsa translates as non-violence – toward ourselves, others, the world around us, non-violence in our thoughts, words and deeds. To me, an equally apt definition of Ahimsa would be compassion. When we practice yoga, we learn to be compassionate toward ourselves, and as we direct compassion inward, we begin to radiate it outward to all those we encounter. As Abhijata said, yoga is teaching us huge concepts – we need only open and awaken to these lessons and let them unite us with something greater than our individual self.

If you have the opportunity to see this documentary, I highly recommend it. In the meantime, I share with you the trailer for a glimpse of the film’s wisdom and insight.


Iyengar: The Man, Yoga & The Student’s Journey
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Planting new seeds

Spring flowers by the lake

I love being a student. I love learning new things – new skills, ideas, perspectives. When I do something I’ve never done before, I feel awake and fully present, my attention squarely focused on the moment in which I find myself. It could be almost anything – hiking a new trail, exploring a new city, learning a new language. Our experiences shape who we are day by day and moment by moment; we are always evolving, integrating what we learn and experience into our body of knowledge and adjusting how we interact with ourselves and others accordingly. If we approach each new person/place/idea/experience with an open mind and heart, we can invite their lessons deep within to help us grow, to broaden our horizons and expand our view of the world around us.

I recently attended a conference and had the good fortune to study with some exceptional teachers. I chose sessions that I sensed would offer new ideas and perspectives on familiar topics, as well as some that were largely unknown to me, and I was not disappointed. I learned about a lineage of yoga called Purna Yoga that was created by Aadil Palkhivala, who jokes that he began practicing with B.K.S. Iyengar while in the womb (his parents were having fertility issues and went to Iyengar for help; after four months of practice with him, Aadil was conceived, and both his parents and Aadil continued to practice with him for many years to come). I studied hip health and explored a Purna practice created to support long-term hip mobility and stability. I learned about Thai yoga massage and self-massage, seeing meridian theory from a different perspective and gaining a deeper understanding of the power of hands-on body work. I rolled around in the world of therapy balls, learning more about the role they can play in analysing and improving strength, flexibility and range of motion in our myofascial structures. And I had the opportunity to study with an anatomy expert I have followed for many years (Leslie Kaminoff), diving into lively discussion and practice on bones, muscles and structural diversity, as well as breath-centered yoga and the bandhas. What an extraordinary few days!

After taking in all this new information, I let it settle. I assimilate and integrate what I have learned into my experience, where it can inform my practice and my teaching, where it can help me grow and develop. New seeds have been planted. Some will sprout and flourish, guiding me in new directions on my path, whereas others might not take root or blossom only briefly, as their lessons do not resonate as deeply or with the same relevance to where I am heading on my journey. That’s the beauty of learning – we open our minds and hearts to what an experience can teach us and we have the opportunity to listen and look within, to notice what touches us deeply, what lights us up, what changes our perspective or challenges our preconceptions. We can disregard the lessons, let them roll off us with no effect, or we can welcome them in and see what happens to the way we view ourselves and the world.

In spring we are surrounded by new growth, with budding trees and flowers beginning to bloom. What a perfect metaphor for our own opportunity to grow! My recent studies have sown a healthy handful of seeds, with more to come I’m sure, and I look forward to tending them and seeing what fruit they might bear. As the natural world wakes up around you, what seeds do you wish to plant? What unexpected wonders might they bring your way?

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Spring cleaning

Spring has finally arrived! Though outside my window there is a decidedly wintry wind blowing now, the sight of robins in the grass tells me that spring is here. The spring equinox this year coincided with a Super Moon, apparently the first time this has happened since 1905 and it will not happen again until 2144. How fortunate that we were here to see it, and what an extraordinary way to begin a season that invites us to explore new opportunities and possibilities.

In spring we can see new beginnings everywhere, we need only look – buds on the trees, tiny blooms poking through the soil, longer days and warmer temperatures that signal the arrival of a new season. Winter is a natural time for introspection, turning toward ourselves to explore our inner landscape. Maybe this winter you became reacquainted with yourself, reconnected with the light and wisdom and beauty that is you…or maybe you did not. Inner work takes time and patience and commitment and maybe this was not something you were ready to do this winter. Reassure yourself with kindness that that’s okay. It’s spring now, winter is in the past so we let it go without judgment or regret for what might have been, what we might have done. Luckily, there is never a wrong time for inward reflection, and the arrival of spring encourages us to do some inner work now – some interior spring cleaning to sweep away the old, the limiting, the unhealthy, the unwanted, to make space for what is new. What can we clear out? Old habits, unhealthy behaviours, fear and shame and malice, thoughts and feelings and preconceptions that no longer serve us. Just as we clean out our closets, donating clothes we no longer need to make room for new spring additions, so too can we clean out those inner places where we store old feelings, expectations, and beliefs that no longer resonate with who we are today and who we may be in the future.

Traditional Chinese Medicine confirms that spring is a time for clearing out. The season of spring is associated with the Liver and Gallbladder organ systems, which govern the flow of our chi (energy), our inner disposition, and our detoxification processes. When our liver chi is unbalanced, we can feel defensive, agitated, angry, and unable to think or act decisively. Healthy liver/gallbladder chi enables us to make plans and put them into action, to follow our path in life and to regain equilibrium when unexpected challenges threaten to knock us off course. Healthy liver chi also connects us to our innate capacity for compassion – towards ourselves and others. It is this compassion that can help us to recognise and release what no longer serves us, what might be hurting or holding us back, so that we can create space to welcome something new.

As the signs of spring slowly appear, let this be an opportunity for you to refresh and renew your inner landscape. With compassion and lovingkindness, examine some of your habits and patterns, your recurring thoughts and feelings, judgments and expectations. Is there anything that no longer resonates with you, that no longer serves a positive role, that might hold you back as you seek to move forward on your path? Give thanks for whatever lessons they have taught you, and then let them go. Make room for what is new – new ideas, new adventures, new paths forward. Welcome the new growth and possibility of spring.

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A new beginning

Photo by manfredrichter

Spring is on its way. Can you feel it? Outside your door it may still look and feel like winter, but the days are getting longer and soon there will be buds on the trees and tiny blooms will poke their heads through the snow.

Our body knows that spring is coming. Something begins to stir deep within – if only we take the time to listen. Despite our best efforts to confuse and misdirect our body with artificial light from our devices, interrupted sleep patterns, a diet that often has no relationship to the climate we live in, we are still guided by the changing seasons at our deepest levels. We simply need to attune to our body and it will tell us what it needs to remain healthy and resilient.

Whereas winter is a time to invite introspection and quiet into our life, in spring we are like those tiny blooms, slowly poking our heads out from the snow. As we emerge from our long winter’s sleep, we enter a season of awakening and renewal. Spring is a time of planting seeds and making plans, releasing the old that no longer serves us to make way for the new – new ideas, new habits, new steps on our path.

As we eagerly await spring’s arrival, let’s consider what changes this season might bring for us. What are we ready to let go? What no longer brings us joy? What have we outgrown? When we release what we no longer need, we create space for new joys, new adventures, new ideas, new paths forward.

In anticipation of spring and all its possibilities, I leave you with the words of John O’Donohue.

For a New Beginning - by John O’Donohue

In out of the way places of the heart
Where your thoughts never think to wander
This beginning has been quietly forming
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire
Feeling the emptiness grow inside you
Noticing how you willed yourself on
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the grey promises that sameness whispered
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
You eyes young again with energy and dream
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

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Where no shadow can touch

I recently went for a long walk in the woods as daylight was fading, and as I gazed into the sky I felt light enough to fly and at the same time deeply rooted.  I was fully present, welcoming each sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell that my senses encountered, and yet releasing them as easily as they arrived, remaining open and receptive to whatever the next moment held.  When the walk ended and my focus returned to conversations and tasks, echoes of that feeling of lightness remained for some time.  This is the healing beauty of mindfulness, of truly inhabiting the here and now.

Boiled down to its essence, mindfulness is about being present.  When we live in this moment now, we are not plagued with regret about past events, and we do not feel a crush of worry about the future.  Being in the here and now means that we have released our attachment to past and future and we have opened ourselves to whatever the present moment might bring.  Unfortunately, for most of us, being here now is a fleeting experience, as the distractions of daily life dangle before us like juicy carrots, stealing our attention away.  We chase after the carrots and they lead us down one rabbit hole after another, through a maze of tunnels constructed from our past conversations, relationships and traumas, our future plans and worries and what-ifs. We could spend all of our time in this maze, our attention tumbling from one thought to the next, one regret, one worry to the next. Or instead, we could harness the power of mindfulness to bring us back to the surface, breathing in fresh air, opening our eyes to the clouds and the trees and letting them return us to this moment.

When my thoughts are racing and I get lost in the maze of past and future, gazing skyward is a simple way for me to pause and reconnect with the present.  There is something about the sky that calms me, quiets the busyness within, anchors my attention in the here and now.  Perhaps it is the ever-changing nature of the sky – clouds of all shapes and sizes, endless shades of blue, birds floating in and out of view as they navigate the breeze – an apt metaphor for the impermanence of life itself.  And then there is the miraculous experience of sunrise and sunset, every single day the sky ablaze with new colours, a reminder that even in our darkest times, there is still beauty to be found.  When our path seems unclear, when challenges abound, we need something to remind us of that beauty, the beauty of possibility and change and growth that lies in each moment. 

What makes you feel fully present? What anchors your attention in the here and now and allows you to open to its possibilities? Is there something simple you can reach for when your heart feels heavy, when your mind feels scattered and your attention is scurrying through a maze of what-ifs and worries?  Mindfulness is not a cure for all that ails us, but it is a powerful tool, a wise and supportive friend that can take our hand and lead us to a place of light when we feel mired in darkness.  Though we may share a common desire to live fully in each moment, the ways in which we connect to that moment are unique.  Maybe it is the sound and rhythm of your nourishing breath that grounds you. Maybe bringing your hand to rest on your heart reconnects you to the experience of this moment. Maybe you open your ears to the sounds around you and are returned to the here and now.  Or maybe, like me, you gaze skyward: “Look, up at the sky. There is a light, a beauty up there, that no shadow can touch.” J.R.R. Tolkien

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Explore. Dream. Discover.

Supertree Grove, Singapore

In my last post I touched on the benefits of exploring new places and perspectives and, as if on cue, an article arrived in my inbox about novelty and the importance of getting out of our ruts. According to the University of California Berkeley Wellness Letter, studies have shown that novelty may enhance memory and learning, it is associated with happiness and well-being, it may enhance creativity, and it can help slow down our perception of time. What more could we need to convince us!

For most, our tendency is to gravitate toward the familiar – what is safe, comfortable, known to us. We surround ourselves with familiar people, places, and things to cultivate a sense of security and to create a system of support and reassurance for when the path ahead is unclear. Some of our routines give necessary structure to our life – without them we would neglect our jobs, our responsibilities at home, our commitments to friends and family and community. However, I think it is worthwhile to examine our routines periodically and decide which ones continue to serve us, and which do not – which ones support us and help us move forward on our path, and which might be limiting our potential to grow and change.

It can be daunting to step outside our comfort zone. Yet, if we do not muster the courage to explore beyond what we know, we cannot reap the potential rewards. In A Book That Takes Its Time – An Unhurried Adventure in Creative Mindfulness, there is a wonderful graphic illustrating what lies beyond our comfort zone:

From: A Book That Takes Its Time, by Irene Smit and Astrid van der Hulst

When we look at it this way, how can we not give in to wanderlust and allow ourselves to explore the possibilities of discovery, adventure, reflection, and wisdom?

On the yogic path, we practice svadhyaya, self-study. We reflect upon who we really are – our truest self beyond ego, beyond the expectations and constructs of society. In mindfulness meditation we seek to release attachment to our preconceptions and judgments and look with a beginner’s mind at what arises moment by moment. These practices can help us to open our hearts and minds and give us the courage to explore beyond what is comfortable and known. When we take a step away from the familiar and we observe with fresh eyes what lies before us, the possibilities are endless.

What opportunities await beyond your comfort zone? Take the first step and see where it leads. Follow a new route on your evening walk. Learn a new language or skill. Play with a new pose, or an old pose in a new way, in your yoga practice. Travel to a distant land and explore a new culture. In the sage words of Mark Twain: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.“

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Renew, restore, rejuvenate

When we think of “the three Rs”, what usually comes to mind is the guiding philosophy we learned to lessen our impact on the environment: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.  However, I think it’s time that we also heed another three-R refrain, one that reminds us of the importance of caring for ourselves: Renew, Restore, Rejuvenate.  It is vital to our overall well-being that we take time to replenish our reserves, refresh our perspective, and revive our senses (three more Rs!), so that we can live fully each moment from a place of balance and deep connection.

Self-care can be a very personal ritual – what nourishes one person might not have the same effect on another.  Our mindfulness practice can assist in finding what works best by helping us attune to how we feel and respond to different things.  I have previously written about noticing simple joys in your daily life – the little things that light you up inside, whether it is warm clothes from the dryer, the smell of fresh baked cookies, sinking into a hot bath after a long day.  Creating a routine around our simple joys can help us cultivate a sense of calm, contentment, and ease within, a welcome respite from any stress or anxiety that may be weighing upon us.  When we reconnect with what lights us up, what gives us joy, it brings us closer to ourselves – it brings us home.

For me, my practice has taught me that in addition to welcoming simple joys into each day, what nourishes me most deeply is to explore – a new neighbourhood, a new city, a new culture, a new perspective.  Like all of us, I have my favourite routines, things I do and places I go, and while I seek to invite a beginner’s mind to all of it, there are times when I need something truly different to renew my energy, restore my faith, and rejuvenate my soul.  What I find especially nourishing is travel – it is travel that inspires me, replenishes my inner well, and connects me to my deepest self while also connecting me to the world.  What inspires you? What ignites your inner fire? What draws you out of your comfort zone and encourages you to look with new eyes?

Yoga and meditation offer us an opportunity to play with the edges of our comfort zone.  We can challenge our balance, our strength, our focus. We can try new poses and techniques with open curiosity rather than attachment to a particular outcome.  We can use the power of our practice to explore our physical body, our mental and emotional responses, our sensory experience of each movement, each breath, and each moment.  What we learn in our practice can inform how we live our lives off the mat and cushion – it can help us open our hearts and minds to explore what lies both within and beyond our comfort zone, refreshing our perspective and renewing our connection to our deepest self and to the world around us.

The process to renew, restore, and rejuvenate is a continuous one. If we cultivate a deeper awareness of how we feel physically, mentally and spiritually, we can better provide the support we need to maintain our health and well-being.  Self-care occurs every single day. Let us embrace our simple joys and the contentment they bring.  Let us welcome new perspectives as we refresh our view of the world.  Let us pause to bask in the present moment and explore all its possibilities.