When writing and illustrating children’s books, I’ve learned that sometimes the most productive thing you can do is take a step (or two or three) away from the page.
The same holds true I have recently discovered, in my yoga practice. Both as instructor and practitioner.
I entered my local yoga studio (and second home) early Monday morning last week, not without due trepidation. But any concern as to whether this was the right thing to do amid amidst a global pandemic that shut the studio down two months ago was assuaged by the sight of my students’ eager faces.
“The best classes are those that are not full to brim, but those with students whose energy expands beyond the four corners of their mats.”
Granted, in a studio that can hold up to 65 yogis mat-to-mat (a incredible visual, especially now) the requisite nine students in each of my classes made tangible just how much has changed in the time we were away. I’ve learned though through two years of teaching, that often the best classes are those that are not full to brim, but those with students whose energy expands beyond the four corners of their mats. Of course, all ten of us stayed well within the confines of our allotted spaces, but the energy in the room was palpable. For 45 sweaty minutes, I could forget what was going on beyond the four walls of the studio and take life one posture at a time. The question of “How are we doing?” midway through practice wasn’t a masked inquiry into the state of a friend’s financial or mental well being amid a global pandemic (as often is the case these days), but rather the very sensible question midway through a 99-degree heated class: “Do you guys need a water break?”
I don’t know what the next few weeks, let alone months hold. But as with my creative process, I now know that a break from the yoga studio I’ve come to call my second home doesn’t have to break me. In fact, a little time away can give me newfound perspective. Often we don’t realize the people and the things in our lives that mean the most to us until we’re forced apart. Now that I have returned, I realize better than ever before how much this community has meant to me.
And I know too that every time I hit my mat (or my drawing board for that matter) I can pick up right where I left off. Only this time with new energy, new ideas, and newfound gratitude for every yoga pose and pencil mark that came before.