Be soft in your practice. Think of the method as a fine silvery stream, not a raging waterfall. Follow the stream, have faith in its course. It will go on its own way, meandering here, trickling there. It will find the grooves, the cracks, the crevices. Just follow it. Never let it out of your sight. It will take you. - Sheng Yen

My daily home practice was flowing smoothly last fall, but once I hit January it ran right into a brick wall. I couldn't pry myself out of bed early for a bit of asana and meditation to save my life. It became, at best, a feeble weekly attempt. I hoped the season of Lent would jump start my efforts. No such luck. Daylight savings seemed like another good marker for gathering momentum, but it came and went and still I struggled. Surely the transition to spring would have an immediate effect...it to passed without significant influence. Then last week, for no particular reason, I woke up early and found my meditation practice lengthened 10 fold without any real effort. I resumed my study of the Sutras. I welcomed the ease.

We like to think we have control over most things in life. We like to think our shear will power is enough to keep any practice strong at any time. We feel guilty when we fall short, convinced we've failed. But life has a force all its own and we can not separate ourselves from the influence of all that swirls around us. Darkness - whether lack of daylight or seasons of personal struggle - can hinder the best intentions for practice. The effort to keep going can seem momentous. And that feeling of exertion can build and build until we are all but ready to give up.

We can't predict when the balance will shift back towards ease, but we can trust that at some point we will cycle back around to a more peaceful place. Our responsibility is to show up - not to be perfect, not to be the best - simply to show up. To keep some semblance of commitment going, acknowledge when it's hard, and savor the times that it's effortless.

A shift in my schedule last week prompted me to stay at the studio after teaching Tuesday afternoon to practice with my friend and colleague Natalia Rudovsky. Her level II class offers a very different style from mine and while I have a deep respect for Natalia's abilities both as a yogi and a teacher, I don't usually find myself craving the fiery energy explored in this 75 minute practice. Perhaps something about the bright sun that day alongside chilly temperatures nudged me to challenge the physical body, lay down a mat and surrender my desire for ease. Yoga is a discipline that asks us to find balance between ease and effort and I confess that I am generally more at home with the former. I like to curl up to a nice mellow, gentle series of poses. And so, even though I don't often seek it, a practice that pushes the limits of my physical strength and breath capacity can be just what I need from time to time. Not only did the asana sequences challenge me, but Natalia's exploration of the Chakras brought me face to face with an aspect of the subtle body that I often find illusive. What are Chakras? My longtime teacher, Lisa Steele, describes them in this way: "the Chakras are an invisible center of spinning energy, located where the mind and body meet. While not synonymous with any portion of the physical body, their effect on the physical body is strong; it is believed that our physical bodies shape themselves around the Chakras."

If you enjoy a strong asana practice and want to deepen your understanding of mind-body-spirit connection, I encourage you to try and make it to Natalia's Sunday and/or Tuesday evening classes soon. Every two weeks features a new Chakra (current focus is on Manipura (third/solar plexus). I myself hope to be there again soon.