In her book, Better Than Before, Gretchen Rubin writes: “Any beginning is a time of special power for habit creation, and at certain times we experience a clean slate, in which circumstances change in a way that makes a fresh start possible…” For me, September has this special power.

According to the calendar, September is just another month in the year. But according to our emotions, this time of year often feels particularly weighty.

With summer at an end, many people experience a pang of nostalgia for the good weather as the days grow shorter and there’s a distinct nip in early morning air. For parents and students, the back to school period is often a potent cocktail of relief, excitement, and anxiety.

The idea of setting intentions or a ‘resolution’ may only seem necessary when you’re counting down the seconds at a New Year’s Eve party, or overcoming a transformational life event. Resolutions might seem like the sort of thing we reserve for special occasions, when we really want to make a change. The thing is, every day is ripe for resolution-making, whether it’s a rainy Thursday afternoon or a bright and optimistic Monday morning. Every moment offers the opportunity to set an intention, a sankalpa and a resolution.

The word resolution itself has two meanings; the original word comes from the Latin solvere, meaning ‘to loosen or release’, and also ‘breaking into parts’, while the relatively modern version is derived from the word ‘resolute’, referring to a sense of being determined and firm. Usually, when we set a resolution, our attitude is determined and firm, an attempt to control our mind or body. Your resolution might be to give up sugar, start jogging, to practice yoga every day, or to be more organised. When we set resolutions like this however, we can sometimes miss the entire point of making the resolution itself, which deep down is probably along the lines of being happy and enjoying life more. If the reason behind setting resolutions is about being happy or enjoying life a little more, I invite you to think of a resolution that is more about cultivating solvere – loosening, releasing and breaking into parts – than it is about controlling. What do you feel you try to control and grip a little too much? What would you benefit from loosening or releasing a little more? So much of our lives is already about improving, developing and hiding any imperfections, that loosening and releasing from time to time could be the very medicine we need and the missing link to feeling better.

Dr. Claudia Welch, who specialises in Ayurveda and Chinese Medicine, and who authored the book Balance Your Hormones, Balance Your Life, champions the notion of giving ourselves more rest, and letting go of the need to achieve and ‘do’ all the time. “If we’ve done some work on ourselves, we respect the natural urge of hunger, we respect thirst, but we tend not to respect tired”. Indeed, in a bid to be our ‘best’ selves, very often resolutions are about ‘doing’, ‘improving’, and exhausting ourselves, more than they’re about honouring and nourishing ourselves. So perhaps pause for a moment and listen – really listen; if you were to loosen and release, and if you were to allow parts of your identity and current habits to ‘break into parts’, what might that look like? What one thing in your life would you benefit from loosening the grip on or letting go of? Chances are it’s the first thing that comes into your mind… To practice setting a resolution this month, set some time aside some time in silence whether sitting or walking, and simply listen when you ask the question; “What do I need?

No, that’s not a typo. It’s a word I found recently that’s quite perfect to describe this time of year: sortumn. Not summer anymore, but not quite autumn either, this just might be my favourite season – a beautiful in-between time made up of equal parts golden sunshine and misty mornings.

It’s particularly lovely where I live, in my semi rural idyll of Romsey. The evenings are still long enough to walk the canal path before dinner, while the slanted sunshine gilds leaves that are just beginning to turn colour. My favourite walk takes us under an ancient apple tree, and at the moment the windfalls are filling the air with a wonderful cidery smell that evokes thoughts of the months yet to come – full of crisp air and cosy jumpers and soup for dinner, with a warm apple crumble afterward if we’re lucky.

As we make our way between the hedgerows, hubby and I, a few early leaves crunch underfoot; the pheasants, stealing a few more days of leisure before the hunters arrive, cluck and chuckle in the fields which border the canal. It’s warm enough to wear short sleeves, but not hot enough to be uncomfortable – the perfect sort of evening to bring along a blanket and a beloved and a bottle of wine to share beside the river, while the mayflies dance and the swallows perform an aerial ballet overhead.

A neighbour asked me the other day why this season is my favourite, as opposed to spring. True, the delights of a full-on English spring are not to be sniffed at – this country knows how to burst into bloom with a vengeance – but there’s something a bit melancholy and bittersweet about these brief few golden weeks that I love beyond reason. The mellow sunshine is fleeting, and the long nights will soon draw in. (These have their good side, too, but they do take some getting used to.) This small season – this sortumn – is a transition, a moment trapped between one thing and another, and as such it can’t ever be truly savoured before it’s gone. Maybe that’s why it feels so precious.

I would like to share a simple story:

One day a psychology professor gave his students a surprise test. They all waited anxiously at their desks for the exam to begin. The professor handed out the exams with the text facing down, as usual. Once he had handed them all out, he told them to turn over the papers. To everyone’s surprise there were no questions – just a black dot in the centre of the sheet of paper. The professor gave them the simple instruction: “I want you to write about what you see.”

At the end of the class, the professor collected all the papers and read each one of them out loud, in front of all the students. All of them, without exception, defined the black dot, describing its size, its colour, its position in the centre of the sheet. After he had read out all the answers he put the papers down on his desk and looked out at the room of silent students and said, “I’m not going to grade you on this, I just wanted to give you something to think about. Not one of you wrote about the white part of the paper. Everyone focused on the black dot. We do the same thing in our daily lives. We have a beautiful, full piece of white crisp paper to observe and enjoy, but we focus on the dark spot. Our life is a gift, for each and every one of us. There will always be darkness, but there will also always be reasons to celebrate, to be grateful; our families, our health, the blue sky, the rain making the grass green, nature renewing itself daily, friends around us. However, we insist on focusing only on the dark spot – the health issues that bother us, the lack of money, the complicated relationships with others, or the disappointment with a friend. The dark spots are exceedingly small when compared to everything we have in our lives, but they are the ones that pollute our minds. Take your eyes away from the black dots in your life. Enjoy each one of your blessings and each moment that life gives you. Be happy and live a full life.”

This week I challenge you, in these unprecedented times – a global pandemic, a deluge of political unrest and economic challenge – I challenge you every day this week to take out that piece of paper, place all the darkness into the one spot in the middle of the page and then fill the rest of the page with all the bright colour in your life. Fill the page with all the things you are grateful for, everything you have been lucky enough to have in your life. Use colour, images, words. Make a mess because life is a glorious mess. Illuminate the page with the sparkle and lustre of your life. Remind yourself. This is who you are. This is your life. Make it big, shiny and bright.

I am a reformed ‘yes’ girl. I used to fling my ‘yes’s’ around like there was some kind of magical endless supply. I was careless with my ‘yes’s’, I didn’t treasure them like I should have.⠀

And then, after many years of getting stressed and overworked, I finally got it. ⠀

My ‘yes’s’ are sacred. They are a valuable treasure to be protected at all costs. When I say yes to one thing – I’m saying no to another thing. It’s logical. I can’t do all the things.

So I became a ‘no’ girl. Almost overnight.

But of course staying a ‘no’ girl is a different story. It’s far too easy to slip back into old habits. Especially when we are struggling a bit in the self-worth department.

“Yes, I can absolutely look after your kids – send them over!” When all I really want is to know that my friendship is valued.

“Yep, I can fit in that extra job this week” Because if I don’t I’ll look useless and like I can’t handle the workload.

Ugh.

If you feel like you say YES far to often and wind up overcommitted and overwhelmed, stick with me. Let’s figure out what to say no to, and how to say it!

It’s okay to say no

It took me a long time to understand that it was actually okay to say no. My brain seemed pre-programmed to yes. And it was stuck on it, like a broken record.

I also presumed that people expected me to say yes. I couldn’t imagine that they would be okay with me saying no.

Once I gave myself permission to try it out – saying no – I discovered it wasn’t as scary as I thought. I also found that people were generally okay with me saying no. Despite what my ego told me I wasn’t always the only person for the job! My saying no didn’t affect them as much as it did me.

How to work out what to say no to

So now that I knew it was okay to say no, I needed to figure out when I could say it. As tempting as it was, surely I couldn’t say no all the time. What were the right things to say no to? Should it be based purely on my availability? Or could I choose to say no to things simply because I didn’t want to do them (surely not!)??

Of course, I had moral and ethical boundaries that made some decisions easy but what about everything else?

When I’m asked to commit to something new, whether it be an ongoing project or a coffee date I like to consider two main things;

Does it fit with my ‘why’ – my core values and purpose

I don’t commit to random things anymore. I’m purposeful with whatever projects I take on. I like to run it by my basic core pillars. Does it feed my innate need to create something? Does it mean I get to connect deeply with someone? Is it serving an area of my life that I’m developing?

Do I have time?

There are many things that I would love to do. But I can only do a few of them. My time is limited. Like so many of us, I wear many hats and shape shift my way through my week. f

This revelation has not come easy though. I used to try and squeeze all the things into my calendar (like the time I trained to teach yoga, travelling up and down to London every other weekend whilst juggling a full time job in a stressful environment). There was no white space. No extra time in case of emergencies. Fuelled by a desire to please others and my ego, I would stack training sessions, coffee dates and meetings on top of each other until it all came tumbling down.

One helpful tool I try and use when considering something new is to overestimate the time it would take. This gives me space to breathe in between commitments rather than letting them stack up on top of each other.

Ways to say no (and still keep your friends)

So now you know (hopefully) that it’s okay to say no. And maybe you’ve got a better idea of what you might say no to by checking if it aligns with your ‘why’ and your calendar.

But you might still find yourself saying yes. In the moment, caught off guard, you know you shouldn’t commit, but you do it anyway. Because you can’t figure out how to say no.

Use the power of the pause

A helpful tool when learning how to say no is to use the power of the pause. Pause after you are asked to do something. You don’t need to respond immediately. Take three deep breaths and let them know that you’ll get back to them.

You don’t have to decide right then and there. Most people will respect that and offer you time before you ask for it.

Soften the blow

I don’t buy into the idea that ‘No’ is a complete sentence. I understand the concept behind it. We don’t have to explain ourselves to other people. Our reasons for saying are our own. But how many times have you actually said ‘No’. and stopped at that?

It’s pretty difficult. We naturally want to apologize. ‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t do that’. There’s nothing wrong with this!!! Being genuinely sorry that we can’t help out helps soften the blow. And also, it’s just a kinder way of saying it.

Try these alternative one-liners

Here are some other one-liners that you can use if, like me, you aren’t comfortable with a harsh ‘No’;

“No thanks, my schedule is full right now.”

“No thank you, I’m unable to help this time.”⠀

“I really appreciate you asking me, but I’ll have to decline”⠀

“No, I don’t want to engage with that right now.”⠀

“No thanks, I’m working on having less busy and more happy”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You are the boss. This is your show. Get in the director’s chair and orchestrate your masterpiece. You are worthy of doing what lights you up. You worthy of doing what you need to do to thrive. Yup, even if it’s getting into your pj’s at 5pm and eating toast for tea.

I’ll take my seat in the front row and cheer you on.

It came as no surprise that a recent poll showed that a mere 12% of the population want life to return to pre-lockdown ‘normal’. After a life that’s been unavoidably pared back, how can we take the positives of operating in a more streamlined way and apply them when ‘normal life’ resumes?

‘Lockdown has been simplicity’s moment in the sun,’ says Julia Hobsbawm – entrepreneur, speaker and author of The Simplicity Principle. ‘It has connected us to the idea that, in the end, all we really want is to be safe, well, and to love and be loved. Now we know this, I don’t think our old lives will hold the same appeal.’

That said, lockdown life can be knotty in its own ways. We have become even more reliant on technology for social interaction, and, in many cases, our careers, home-schooling and hobbies have become tangled into one big messy ball. Plus, the world has possibly seemed more confusing and disorientating than ever before.

I read a wonderful article recently about post-lockdown behaviour. Have you found yourself tutting and flashing your eyes above the mask when someone inadvertently wanders within your 2 metre zone? Saying an audible sarcastic ‘Thank you’ when you have to walk in the road to pass someone? Guilty as charged I’m ashamed to say! However, words from those who have returned from a period in lockdown offer us some advice about navigating our way forward in this post-lockdown world.

Christiane Heinicke took part in a simulated Mars mission on Mauna Loa volcano. For a year, there were no phones, no cars, no money, nothing commerce related. She was there to focus on the science. ‘Everything was straightforward’ she said. ‘At the end, I have to take time to contemplate all the things I hadn’t needed to think about for a year.’

She went on to say that she gave herself time to prepare to re-enter the world which would be louder, brighter and stranger than she remembered. Having to turn her filters back on after they had been off for a year in isolation would take time.

‘Re-emerging into the world made me realise how many choices there are. You can say ‘Actually, you know what, I don’t need this technology. I don’t want an iPad.’

So what advice would Heinicke give us preparing to leave lockdown?

‘Coming out of isolation takes a physical and psychological toll. It’s normal to find that you are really tired, so give yourself time and space. The filters take time to return, so be patient with yourself and others. You may have forgotten what it’s like to have to deal with other people.’

‘Isolation is a beautiful opportunity but, it’s also a trauma, so take your time – give yourself a lot of patience and consideration.’

As we approach summer, many of us would usually be preparing for holidays and perhaps weeks of travelling to exotic lands. Usually, however, isn’t what we’re dealing with currently because, as lockdown continues, most holiday plans have probably changed. If we’re not journeying outward though, we have a unique opportunity to explore what’s happening on the inside, and although it may not include a trip to the beach or cocktails by the pool, reconnecting to our inner world can often prove to be the biggest adventure yet. It’s time to learn to Travel Light, because without knowing it, many of us carry around years of unresolved stress and tension, memories and mysterious aches and pains without even realising it.

Body workers, therapists and osteopaths tend to agree that at least a percentage of chronic pain or general dis-ease can be traced back to a ‘stuck’ emotion or a reluctance to change. If pain and anxiety have become your normal, everyday base-line way of being, it’s likely that your mind almost feels ‘comfortable’ in this state. Familiar and comfortable in its own way; suffering can be predictable, we know where we are with it, and we don’t have to think too much…. The moment we try to make as positive change or start a habit with the intention to move away from pain and anxiety (like meditation or yoga), the subconscious mind gets scared; “But this isn’t how we work! This is different, this is unpredictable, this isn’t safe!”, which is partly why changing and letting go of what no longer serves us is challenging. Carrying the weight of worry or unresolved fear may have at first seemed unbearable, but the mind and body adapt, and now it goes unnoticed – it’s simply your ‘personality’.

There’s a reason we might carry around negative thinking or fear mindset, as Osho explained in one of his many lectures; “The way human beings are brought up plays a very definite role. If you are unhappy, you gain something from it… Whenever he is unhappy, everybody is sympathetic toward him. Everybody tries to be loving toward him. And even more than that, whenever he is unhappy, everybody is attentive toward him, he gains attention. Attention works like food for the ego… If everybody is looking at you, you become important. If nobody is looking at you, you feel as if you are not there, you are a non-being”. Indeed, whenever we embrace fear, pain or anxiety, we feed the ego and reinforce who we ‘think’ we are. When we stop holding on to the familiar patterns and the personality we’ve created however, the ego gets smaller, the load gets lighter, and we begin to see who we truly are – pure consciousness, ego-less.

5 Steps To Travelling Light

So, how do we start letting go of the heavy emotions and physical tension that no longer serves us? How do we travel light? We have to allow the ‘stuck’ emotions or pain to move, firstly by using the breath. Massage therapist and author of Issues In Your Tissues Denise La Barre says; “Breathing fully, the way se were born to do, circulates energy through the body, revitalising and nourishing all systems. As we deepen the breath, the muscles relax, thinking slows and we feel more spacious in our bodies. We invite creativity to flow through. The mind loses its stranglehold on our attention and allows us to feel our emotions”. If you’re ready to lighten the load, start this 5-step practice this month:

1. Observe: When we’re entangled within emotional or physical discomfort, it can be difficult to actually see what’s happening; how we’re thinking, acting and making decisions. Being able to observe ourselves allows us to step back from the situation and bring unconscious habits into conscious awareness, where the real work and change can take place. Begin the practice of mindfulness by watching your actions and thoughts throughout the day. There’s no need to actively change anything to begin with, simply observe your habits and any self-talk. If you’d like a more formal way to practice this, sit in a comfortable position and watch your thoughts without attachment or judgement for 10 minutes.
2. Accept: The next stage of releasing what we no longer need is to accept what we find. So often an illness or injury persists for longer than necessary because we simply don’t accept the reality of the situation, or the feeling of stress circulates around the body for an extended period of time because we haven’t let go of it yet. When we accept what is, we allow the pain or emotion to start moving, and we dislodge it from where it’s been stuck in limbo for days, months or years. Emotions are energy-in-motion, and they need to move in order to heal.
3. Breathe & Feel: When we hold the breath, we essentially hold-in emotions or sensations we’re unwilling to feel. Breathing fully and deeply allows emotions to flow, and when they flow, we feel. This step is difficult because sometimes the ego doesn’t want to feel. If this is challenging for you, begin a simple pranayama practice of Adham Pranayama, the ‘abdominal breath’. Inhale deeply to expand the lower ribcage, your stomach and your back three-dimensionally. Exhale to allow all the muscles to relax. Do this for a few minutes per day, especially when you observe a fearful thought or physical discomfort. Watch the emotions start to move, and if it becomes too much to handle, only commit to the breathing practice for a few minutes at a time, therefore gently encouraging the emotions to flow, rather than opening the metaphorical floodgates.
4. Move: Remember, emotions are energy-in-motion, and they need to be moved! Animals naturally experience ‘neurogenic tremors’ (a.k.a shaking) after a stressful event, allowing them to return to a state of homeostasis, thus letting go of the stress. In a bid to be ‘civilised’ however, humans have gradually repressed and forgotten the ability we all have to shake, which is essentially our in-built de-stressor. To lighten the load, move in any way that feels good to you – run, walk, practice yoga, dance, and shake your body!
5. Release: Once the emotion or physical discomfort has been ‘un-stuck’ and allowed to move, it’s time to let it go. This can happen in a number of ways; through a long exhale; with the help of a massage therapist; and through vocally expressing your intention to release what no longer serves you. Once you’ve practiced the previous steps, express the following: “I let go of what I do not need, I release this [memory / pain / emotion] and choose to be free. I travel light”.

‘Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.’ Desmond Tutu 

I think it’s important, first of all, to acknowledge the pain and dismay and distress and despair that just following the news — that being present to what’s happening in the world right now — causes. And I don’t think this is all that imaginative, but for me, one way I stay grounded is by limiting my exposure to what I’m taking in. And that’s not choosing to be uninformed, but I don’t actually think we are equipped, neither physiologically nor mentally, to be delivered catastrophic and confusing news and pictures, 24/7. We are analog creatures in a digital world. So I don’t follow what happened in the last 20 minutes, all day long, and I think that’s actually, right now, an essential discipline.

The other way I’m staying grounded is that however seriously we must take what’s happening in the world and what the headlines are reflecting, it is never the full story of our time. It’s not the last word on what we’re capable of. It’s not the whole story of us. Whilst it may appear that the news seems focused on what is catastrophic, corrupt, and failing, let’s not forget that, at the same time, there are good people. There are healing initiatives. There is a narrative of healing and of hope and of goodness, and we also just, as a discipline, have to take that in, as well — not instead of, but the both; hope for humanity and of our world.

And I feel it’s only in doing that that we keep flexing and strengthening our hope muscle. Hope is a muscle. It’s a choice. It is a vigorous choice, to see what is wrong and what needs healing and needs repair and needs our attention and also to keep our hearts and our imaginations and our energy oriented towards what we want to build, what we want to create, what we’re walking towards.

However justifiably granular our despair and confusion might be on any given day, it is so, so critical that we keep orienting ourselves towards the long view, towards the fact that what we are in the midst of is a societal shift. It is going to play itself out in generational time. And so, we have to, at the same time that we act and speak and think critically about what’s happening in the moment, we have to embody and walk with and towards how we want to live in contrast to that, how we want to live beyond this. We cannot call forth in the world something that we don’t embody.

One of the paradoxical and amazing things about our species is how people are able to get through the worst, also, with their joy muscle intact. If we want to call the world not just to justice but to joy and to flourishing, of which joy is a part, we have to find those ways and those places where that is also what we are finding and stirring and keeping alive in others.

So, whilst I hope that my zooming days are finite, for the time being, I’m finding joy in working with my online community until such time as we can meet on the mat.

If someone had told us at the start of the year that, only a few months later, we’d be shut in at home, fearful of an invisible enemy, we would have laughed…or cried! An early April Fool’s day joke perhaps or the words of an apocalyptic doom mongerer. But, we are all getting used to our strange new reality.

I’m getting used to ‘seeing’ my regular yogis via zoom and learning to navigate family life around on line teaching (my mother phoning to order her veg box in the middle of a live stream was a real live moment!)

I feel my emotions are much closer to the surface and I’m likely to weep or laugh at any given moment. In such turbulent times, we need as many tools in our tool kit to help us get through this and, I thought I’d round up a few of my favourites. Perhaps one or two may just prove to be of use.

A number of us may feel that these times are actually incredibly frantic, with new and insistent demands being made on you all the time, so how do you pause with all that is going on?

Start Small.
Be gentle. You can start small. A pause of even a moment or two, or a breath or two creates an opening and a deepening. It leavens and lightens your time. It can also have a lasting effect. I began meditation with a minute a day, over twenty years ago. Now, it is part of my life.

Get Physical.
Your body is your friend, so use it to create a pause. Take a few breaths, dwelling on the pause between breathing in and out. Or, sit still and feel your feet on the ground and the position and posture of your body. Get curious about where you hold tension, seek it out, and then let it go – relax your jaw, drop your shoulders, whatever it is. You can do that in just a few seconds – in the middle of something else.

Body scan.
On waking, or before you fall asleep, take a few moments to scan your body from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Make that first (or last) moment into one of noticing the body that is you.

Thresholds As Triggers.
Use thresholds and transitions as triggers. So pause for a moment (and count to 1!) before you enter a room or the house. Or when you leave, or when you turn the car keys in the ignition or see the ‘Join Meeting’ screen on Zoom…. Use those triggers to take a breath or two, or feel your body on the chair, or to simply be with yourself for a few seconds.

Your Song.
Choose a song that means something to you. One you love. And listen to it. From beginning to end. Use headphones. Ignore any potential interruptions. Let yourself be in the music, let it wash over you and soak into you. Do this as a routine, or whenever you feel like it.

Listening Out.
The quiet that surrounds us in lockdown makes this a beautiful one to try now. Open up your ears to hear everything you can, first what’s around you –the tapping of the keyboard, the washing machine, then go further out…. can you hear voices from the next room, birdsong outside, footsteps in the street, a single car passing by…. see how far you can go. Sink into listening. You could easily make this into a game with small kids if you like, giving you a moment of pause even whilst you are with them.

Cup Of Coffee (tea).
Pay proper attention to a cup of coffee (or tea). Feel the heat of the cup in your hand, the smell before you sip, the taste, the aftertaste. Sit with it. Don’t do anything else. If people ask you for something, tell them you will give them your attention when the coffee is finished.

Stop Trying To Do Everything Perfectly.
You can’t do everything perfectly. If only because that will make you stressed, which isn’t perfect. So let that go. Really. Once and for all. Nobody’s perfect. Don’t ask yourself to do something which is impossible.

Stop Trying To Do Everything Full Stop.
So you are homeschooling, learning how to work from home, doing all the domestics and trying to stay sane. That’s enough. More than enough in fact. Let go of any daft ideas you have that you should also be using this time to write a novel, learn to code, or clear out the basement.

Let Something Slide.
Go further and choose to let one thing slide. On purpose. Make toast instead of a meal. Dress sloppy. Fail to deliver on a work thing that doesn’t matter any more. Don’t feel you have to talk to your friends every day. Skip the bedtime story. Choose a different thing each day and take that time back for yourself. That will probably feel taboo, but it’s ok. Really, it is.

Brush Like A Zen Master.
You brush your teeth several times a day. Take that time as a conscious pause and allow yourself to just brush your teeth. Don’t use it to think about other things or make plans, or process worries. Just. Brush.

Action, not activity.
Improvisers distinguish between activity – which is stuff happening and action – which are the few things that make a difference. Look at your day and work out which are which. Focus on actions, let activity go. There’s more on this in the book (‘DO Pause’).

Today List.
The night before, or at the beginning of the day, make a realistic list of things to do for the day. Not pie in the sky, but what would be a good day’s effort. Once you have written it you are not allowed to add to this list. And when it’s done, you are done. It is then time for you.

Give Yourself Permission.
This is the big one. Do you give yourself permission to pause? And if not, why not? That is a big question, but if you can create small pauses, you might be able to start to get some perspective on that and grow the sense of space and the feeling of agency you have over your own life.

If it helps, I can give you permission…. Print this off and stick it somewhere visible.

During our lives, we might encounter a range of bigger transitions such as changing jobs, entering a new stage of life, moving and illness. But there are also more subtle transitions such as shifting from work to relaxation, the beginning and end of the weekend and returning from a holiday. Transitions, even exciting ones, can be daunting. They are filled with uncertainty and without always being conscious of it; we sometimes avoid them and what comes up for us for during them.

Transitions in yoga

In yoga, we also encounter transitions, for example between time on our mat and the day as a whole; the period at the beginning of the practice before we start moving, and the period of rest at the end. With a home practice it can be especially tempting to cut out these parts. We might feel restless or find it difficult to stop and feel an urgency to move on. There are also the transitions during our practice. One example is how we get from one posture to another and how we move during our flow. Again during those times we might witness a tendency to rush through and to want to get into the posture as quickly as possible. We might feel a resistance to slowing down, exploring the space in between postures as well as holding the postures themselves.

The Challenge of Transitional Space

There may be several reasons we are uncomfortable with the transitional space in life and in our yoga practise. We may have become so used to having a direction and targets that it feels unfamiliar just to be and let the experience unfold more gradually. The transitional space can sometimes feel endless and we might feel anxious about being feeling lost and directionless. During transitions we often have time for more reflection but perhaps feelings and thoughts might appear that challenge assumptions we have of ourselves, how we live and relate, and in yoga how we are approaching our practise and what we really want from it.

Pause and rest to connect

To manage the the transitional space we often set ourselves goals. Goals can provide a sense of control in the face of the unknown. Everything can then be evaluated and defined in terms of outcome and achievement. In our yoga practice, we might start targeting postures and become fixated on being able to do a certain posture in a certain way. As a result however, we might be less connected to what is actually happening in our body. We might not be aware for example, that we are overusing or underusing certain parts of our body or that a part of the body is starting to feel strain.

That’s why taking rest poses during our practise can be so important. Not just to rest, but to pause and take a moment to more fully connect with how we are feeling and how we might want to approach our practise. Something I often ask myself in the transitional space during practise is, “how can my practise meet me where I am right now?” We can ask the same in day to day life when we take a moment to slow down and pause – “how can life meet me where I am right now?”

Less attachment, more curiosity

When we become less attached outcomes, we can start to fully embrace the journey both in life and with yoga. Our whole experience starts to open out. Take the example of walking around day to day. Often, we are so focused on our destination (getting from a to b) that we remain unaware of what is happening around us. We might not notice the subtle shifts of seasons, the changing colours and smells and others changes to the environment. We might not notice someone who needs our help.

One thing I find helpful is to vary my walking routes. Rather than take the same route that tends to keep me on autopilot, I find consciously choosing a route that is guided by how I am feeling keeps me more connected and present in the experience of moving to my destination. I start to move slower and I become more curious. And that for me is really a key feature to transitions; that sense of being curious, open to enquiry and receiving what emerges in that space.

Using Transitions to establish deeper self-awareness

Similarly in yoga, I mix up my transitions and explore different ways to move in an out of postures. I used to be overly attached to the idea of doing chaturanga or focusing on the key poses that we transition through like plank and downward dog. Of course it’s important giving these postures and movements attention but there are a whole range of other subtle movements during a vinyasa transition that we can also bring attention to.

For example, the process of stepping back to plank can be just as significant as being in plank. It can provide a great opportunity to experiment with how we want to move into a pose. It is a movement we can potentially do quite softly and effortlessly or we can make it more challenging and create deep engagement by keeping our shoulders above our wrists, slowing down the pace at which we step our feet back and focusing on lightness. Suddenly, by shifting the focusing to the transition a whole range of opportunities appear and the potential to develop different strands to our practice.

Tuning into the subtle messages

I am not suggesting there is anything wrong with wanting to accomplish a certain posture or moment. As with life, dreams, aspirations and intentions are valuable. However, fixed targets can sustain us forever in pursuit. Constantly striving towards goals becomes relentless and exhausting and sometimes we lose sight of why we are doing what we are doing.

In life, many injuries and illnesses are often identified later than they could be because we are moving so fast and not stopping and taking time to listen to our bodies. We don’t notice we are tired until we feel burnt out. We don’t notice the beginning of feeling unwell until an illness emerges. It is the same in yoga when we rush into postures or try to force it. We do not give the body time to adapt and consolidate. We can become so obsessed with the final outcome and getting there as soon as possible that we are unable to hear the subtle messages along the way.

These messages might communicate that we need to pull back, make a slight adjustment or in some cases find an alternative posture. While sometimes we might get more from going deeper, just as often we can get more from integrating effortlessness and softness. Where we situate ourselves on that spectrum might vary from day to day and practice to practice. But by taking our time and focusing less on the outcome we might start to notice with more clarity what we need and when.

Developing our inner compass

Engaging in transitions sometimes involves becoming more at ease with not always having a clear direction or specific goals. The idea of giving ourselves permission can be supportive here. It’s okay not to be clear about where we are heading and to not have all the answers. When we are not continually in pursuit of something it can often create space for other things to emerge. The fear might be that if we slow down we will lose time and we won’t get to where we want to be. However, it can be quite the opposite.

Slowing down can give us the gift of time. Sometimes it can lead us to places we couldn’t have even imagined or knew existed. When we are in transition, we can feel fragile, exposed and vulnerable. But it is then that we potentially discover who we really are and what we really need. Rather than focusing on our external direction, we learn to harness our internal compass and can learn to live more fluidly in the face of an external environment which is constantly changing.