To my dismay, I see the rest of the hikers in front of me make their way down that horrendous trail. It is my worst nightmare. I start down that dreaded part of the trail, and then I realized- this is yoga.
This is uncomfortable and difficult and my mind is panicking and I am forgetting to breathe. This is my practice- to allow, to breathe through it, to realize its impermanence, to be present with each step, to be aware of my thoughts but not become them. And so I pay attention to my inhales and my exhales, the placement of the feet, and the hiker in front of me. I refuse to allow negativity and fear behave like the overgrown poison ivy and irritating brush.
Yoga teaches us that we can choose how we react, that we can learn how to breathe through uncomfortable moments, that we can acknowledge that we have a choice whether we freak out or let the anxiety pass. That in each second, each minute, we have a choice.
To breathe.
To exhale.
To soften.
To release.
To offer up.
To open up.
To let it go.
Three hours later as we arrived back safely to our cars, I realized that I just did some real yoga on the trails. I'm thankful for all of the teachers in my life. Yesterday, I added yoga to that list (and I hope you will, too).