For the last few years, my friend Jackie has been telling me I need to go to her yoga class.
But I can be, admittedly, quite slippery and elusive. I’d crack jokes to steer the conversation away or devise weak excuses for why I couldn’t go “this week.” Jackie was too kind to call me out; she just kept encouraging me, persistently.
Then, a couple of weeks before my 50th birthday, Jackie suggested again that I come to her class. Half-joking, I said, “I will when I turn 50.” Of course, I knew that bought me a 365-day cushion to keep making excuses. But, as someone who at least tries to do the right thing, I committed to going to her studio’s first anniversary, which they celebrated this past Saturday.
My reluctance had nothing to do with yoga itself. There are so few intentional spaces where you can truly nurture mind, body, and spirit away from all the busyness and distraction. Outside of backpacking in remote corners of the earth—immersed in a full-body experience paired with the solitude and peace of nature—or practicing centering prayer with my friends at Church of the Epiphany in South Haven, Michigan, I’ve stayed on the periphery of holistic practices over the years.
During the yoga session, the theme for the hour was gratitude. We breathed in and out slowly, reflecting on all we were grateful for. In the beginning, it was easy. As you can imagine, when you’re sitting, lying down, or reaching toward the sky, focusing on your breath comes naturally. But as the class went on, and we were instructed to hold a plank pose, it became tough to keep a steady breath, let alone find gratitude. With my arms shaking beneath me, my long inhalations and exhalations devolving into choppy gasps, the only thing I was thankful for was changing positions.
That is why, even in my first session, yoga became a profound teacher. It reminded me how easy it is to stay peaceful and thankful when surrounded by calm and holding a mindful posture. But it’s much harder to maintain a calm and grateful spirit when there’s resistance. Unless we regularly practice peace and mindfulness in difficult situations, can we ever truly be peaceful or mindful? Put another way—do we ever really experience peace at the heart, mind, and spirit level if it only exists when life is comfortable?
Think about that principle and how much we might all benefit from regular practices that help us cultivate peace and gratitude, especially when life feels chaotic and unsettled.
Question
What practices could help you stay grounded and grateful when you are facing resistance or chaos?
Peace,
Brandon