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Remember Your First Time?


Walking down to the studio this morning it was chilly but a wonderful way to start the day as I dropped my vehicle off to be repaired. The path I took lead me to a stunning view of the river valley and the sun and clouds cooperated making for an ethereal atmosphere all around me.

 It is often times like these that I am inspired and reflective, simple moments that one wouldn't think spur deep thinking but for me simplicity is best. After a weekend of yoga at The Shine Festival in St. Albert I think back to how far I've come over the past few years. From first trying yoga skeptically because it happened to work with my schedule, to trying to meditate when my mom was dying up until I took teacher training last summer there is no way to predict all that has evolved.

I remember my first time. Yoga was a challenge for my ego and the challenge was accepted to get good at it. Little did I know at the time that yoga isn't something you get "good" at for the sake of being good at. It is an evolution, a slow steady build up and practice of daily drops in the bucket adding up to final postures that seem to defy gravity. (Note: not close to that yet but that 's okay.)


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