“Be constantly at it. That’s why it’s called practice. But mere practice alone is not enough without proper vairagya.”
-Swami Satchidananda in The Living Gita: The Complete Bhagavad Gita
I love the festivity of the holidays. I was raised Catholic, so growing up we went to mass for Easter and Christmas, even midnight mass on Christmas Eve. We also went to church every Sunday, I prayed before bed at night, and often said the rosary at home with my parents, so ritual and repetition feel like home to me.
Maybe that’s why I love yoga - it’s full of cycling and recycling through sequences of postures, through repetitions of mantra, through every little breath in and out. I also love practices like taking some time out on the new and full moon to reflect and set intentions. I was excited to see that the Winter Solstice this year coincided with a full moon, so I was ready to sit and have a little meditation and ritual to honor that convergence in the cosmos, and then...I fell asleep while nursing my daughter at bedtime.
My body knew what it needed! And although I was a little bummed to have missed my full moon ritual, it got me thinking of sacredness of every moment. On the eve of Christmas, it’s easy to feel that swell of energy and anticipation that comes with so much preparation around a holiday that is so big in our society. But I’m usually more a fan of the moments that slide by in-between the special occasions. For me, it’s become the magic of making ordinary transition a form of yoga practice.
That means I don’t have to wait for a one-hour yoga class, a group meditation, or satsang to feel that I’m holding strong to my practice. Actually, when I hold onto these forms of practice as the only way to practice, I forget that yoga is life, and I begin to abandon my practice because I feel I don’t have the time or space for it. I had read or heard somewhere that sadhana - yoga practice - can be like a thread or a rope that, in any moment, you can pull on to lift you out of the mess of everyday life into a higher, more peaceful state of mind.
So, while I originally intended on having a ritual and posting here about the full moon and Winter Solstice, it seems that I’ve been compelled to talk about the preciousness of more ordinary moments. How do we bring ourselves to a place where every moment can be both ordinary and extraordinary, simply through a small shift in attitude and perspective? Please share in the comments; I’d love to hear how you do this!
One simple, seemingly ridiculous thing I’ve learned to do is just to wiggle my toes. If I’m ever stuck in my head, or the tension that seems to always accumulate in my shoulders and upper back, it quickly brings my attention and feeling down into my feet. And that always helps me feel more grounded as I shift my attention closer to the earth. I originally learned this technique when I was in therapy working through a phase of anxiety and panic attacks and it has done wonders for me when I was at my worst.
The funny thing is, lately my daughter has been wiggling her own toes while saying, “Wiggle my toes…” Even a two-year-old can appreciate the levity that something so simple can bring!
Happy belated Winter Solstice….and Merry almost-Christmas!