It's been almost two months since I renewed my commitment to yoga, and six weeks since I got my behind back to a regular studio practice. For the past seven weeks, ever since I returned from India, not a day has gone by without me spending some time on a mat – be it at home or at the studio, and I feel all the better for it.
Practising yoga doesn't automatically make me a better person, but it makes me want to strive to be.
It doesn't make me any less assuming or judgmental, but it makes me ask myself, even on hindsight, if I could try to see people and things in a different light.
It doesn't make my heart any bigger, but it makes me dig a little deeper to find that inch of space – for compassion, for forgiveness and for love.
It doesn't make me any wiser, but it guides me to listen to the voice within, the voice I tend to muffle against the cacophony of advice both given and sought.
It doesn't shield me against distractions, but it forces me to stay in the present, which is the most important moment at any given time.
It doesn't erase desires, but it teaches me to give thanks for what I have, and to work harder for what I want to have.
It doesn't make me immune to disappointments, but it gives me the confidence to breathe and flow through even the toughest moments.
Because you see – yoga doesn't shatter my world, but as I ground my shaking limbs deeper into the earth, into my poses, every single day, I grow just that little bit stronger and that little bit more confident in the knowledge that life will ultimately lead me where it's meant to, and to enjoy the journey, not fixate on the destination.
