Family with two children is relaxing on the beach enjoing beautiful sunset

When my husband first immigrated to Canada he was very dedicated to his yoga practice. Meditation every morning, asana practice, mantra, japa… then we had a baby. Yoga slid to the sidelines. I was exhausted, I pushed myself and did yoga.  He was exhausted, he slept. I teased him a bit and he always replied with “Life is yoga“. I thought it was a cop out. I still kind of do. However, he has a valid point. We get a little caught up in “should” when it comes to our ideas of yoga practice. Yes, a regular practice makes the body and mind feel healthy and at ease but if it is a chore, a thing that brings dread, a tired body going through the motions… are we really doing yoga at that point?

I live in a town where there are tons of teachers, tons of workshops, tons of pretty damn awesome yoga stuff happening. I miss almost all of it. I have a family. Retreats just don’t happen in my life. Workshops cost a fortune. Feeding my family is more important. Sometimes I feel like I am missing out but then I remind myself. It is all yoga. My practice is taking deep long breaths while my daughter throws rocks in the water at the lake. My practice is a stretch on the porch at 5am when I let the cat out. My practice is hugging my teen son tight in my arms when he is going through a heartbreak. Yoga is about connection, union, being fully present without striving or envy. In my life that occurs in the sweetness of my home.