Striving for Groundedness
Finding patience, reflection, and compassion in the quiet moments before sunrise, for ourselves, and for the world we live in.
In the calming stillness before sunrise, I step quietly out the front door of our home, careful not to wake my partner as I make my way to the garage. It is here where I have assembled a makeshift gym, but also where my yoga mat lies waiting for me each morning…
Every Session Tells a Story
Some days, the sessions are short. Others feel expansive. But they all tell a story - about myself, about the moment we are in, or about a bigger truth that I know I will need to hold a bit more space to sit and reflect upon later in the day.
As I settle into my practice and move through each pose, I listen for what they’re trying to tell me. And to listen, I need to tune out the noise. Sometimes this appears as a physical sensation - a tight hamstring from a ride on my bike, or an ache in the shoulder from an overly ambitious workout. But sometimes it’s internal - I can feel scattered thoughts collide with one another in my consciousness, trying to pull me forward into the day that awaits me.
More than any pose, it is this striving for groundedness in my practice that remains a challenge for me. As this flood of feelings and sensations wash over me, I breathe, and try to bring my focus back to these bigger stories that are waiting to be heard. Beneath the tight hamstring may be a reflection on pace and pause. Amidst the swirling thoughts and emotions, a truth about the terrifying nature of the world right now, in all its disarray.
Practice for compassion
A favourite instructor of mine often reflects that it is right there in the name - all of this is practice. Practice in patience. Practice in reflection. Practice in compassion. While my knowledge of yoga still feels small, it is the invitation it provides and these stories that it reveals that have resonated deeply for me.
I am someone who arrived later to yoga, inspired by my partner and her practice. At first, it felt misaligned. Only with time did I come to appreciate that perhaps it was me that was out of alignment. Always on the move, and perpetually a little bit anxious, I saw stillness and pause as things to avoid, rather than to embrace. I now see these things as being essential to bringing meaning to our lives - in their absence, what gives markers to the moments that make up our time here?
Start on the mat
And so, I start my day with yoga. I begin knowing that however I step onto the mat, I will feel different by the time I step off of it. And if I bring to my practice an intention to listen, the stories it will share back to me will give some shape and structure to the day that awaits me.
As my practice ends and I shift into the rest of my day, there is a gratitude for this moment, and all that it brings to me. And I hope for this for others - that whatever form your practice takes, that you too are able to be in the moment, and to use the space as one to reflect and grow, through the stories each practice teaches us.
Alexander is based in Naarm/Melbourne, and is originally from the west coast of what is colonially known as Canada. He is the founder of Past Futures and the writer of “I’m New Here” on Substack, but is most grateful for his roles as a partner, uncle and friend.