Last weekend I was at the Yoga Conference in Toronto. In one of the workshops, the instructor spent a long time discussing the importance of cultivating awareness of the space and time in between the poses in our yoga practice. It’s quite easy to focus on your breathing, your muscles, and your body when you’re actually holding a yoga pose on the mat - when you’re still - but the challenge lies in keeping that awareness, that presence of mind and body as you shift your body from one pose to another. This concept is not a new one to me. In fact, most of my clients have heard me talk at length (or ad nauseum, they might argue!) about the danger of losing your awareness in between poses. It is during the transition between yoga postures that people most often hurt themselves.
But what has resonated with me so deeply in that class was that the instructor encouraged us to bring this concept "off the mat" and to think about how much of our life is spent in transition and how much we avoid being present in it: Whether it’s transition into or out of a relationship, transition out of or into a new career, transition between actual physical spaces or between spaces in our relationships. She encouraged us to look at the transitions in our life and to bring a deeper awareness to them.
I have to admit that, at first, I thought I already had this concept down pretty good. When I’m going through changes – whether they be physical, emotional, relationship-wise or career-wise - I try to stand right in the middle of them and experience the good, the bad and the ugly. Generally, when it comes to life's big transitions, I'd say I’m there almost one hundred per cent.
But then I began to break things down. I began to think about my typical day's routine: Wake up early, kids wake up and come into room for a cuddle, kiss husband goodbye, shower, get the kids' breakfast, pack my teaching/writing bag for the day, organize any stuff for my daughter’s school day, caregiver arrives, kiss the kids goodbye, head to client, head to another client, stop off at my second office (thank you, Starbucks). write an article, head to another client, meditate/do yoga or workout, write another pitch or draft or answer emails or have a meeting, head to another client, head home to pick up son, then pick up daughter from school, walk home, play, make dinner, run the bath, read stories, do bedtime ritual, tidy up house - then, most often - STOP.
And as I thought through this type of day, images began to crystallize in my mind. I can clearly see myself sitting on the mat with a client taking them through their yoga or Pilates session, I can visualize myself writing and working at the coffee shop, meditating or working out, I can picture the moments of play and interaction with my kids and family, but all of the moments in between are a blur. How do I get from home to my client’s house? Is my car (let alone my mind) on autopilot? Do I breathe as I leave one client’s house to head to my writing work? In that space between all of the places (physically and mentally) I travel to in a day, I can easily tune out. When I arrive, I’m there. But in between? Admittedly, it’s often a fog.
When I’m doing my own yoga practice, I find the transition between poses is where I often have the best discoveries. I notice things about my body that I don’t see when I’m still, and I observe my mind challenging me by trying spin off onto other thoughts. By not bringing my awareness to “the time and space in between” as I travel throughout my day, what amazing discoveries have I been missing out on?
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