I meant to be in the yoga studio right now. Instead I’m on my couch. Yet I’m not feeling guilty. This is the shape of my practice today - it looks like taking my time to soak up a rare sunny day in January in the PNW. The stillness and silence called to me after a busy morning - the usual daily juggling act of news, breakfast, work check-in, and get-toddler-out-the-door-to-school. When my pre-class coffee date cancelled for her own family obligation, I took a breath. I heard birds chirping. Instead of a rush to the studio, to be in a roomful of people and fill my head with yet another outside voice, I chose to stay here to let the quiet overwhelm my senses. Instead of lunch on the go between taking class and teaching, I sit and take thoughtful bites and digest.

This season of my life is defined by movement. My child barrels through each day at 150 percent, always in motion until sleep overwhelms him. I am a creature of perpetual agitation by nature - a vata type - and I’ve noticed that even wintertime’s kapha doesn’t slow me down much anymore. I try and build little moments of pause into my daily routine, usually in the early morning and at bedtime. Otherwise, it’s go, go, go.

So when sunshine, stillness, and mid-day quiet conspire to keep my on my couch, I don’t argue. I surrender.