Why don't you?
We say want to practice regularly at home. Yet we don't. In this first instalment, we look at some practical tips to get you onto your mat/chair/cushion.
For many of us the holidays are done and dusted. Soon our weekly classes will recommence, routine and regularity replacing what can feel rather like a void, an empty space asking to be filled. Did you have a break? Did you rest? Did you practise at home?
Recently some students of mine asked about how to start and sustain a home practice. It can be really hard to consistently visit our mat/chair/cushion - at least for a time, until a habit is established. Once your home practice is established, it becomes like cleaning your teeth - if you don’t do it, you notice the difference and possibly feel a bit yucky.
So you do it, each day, every day. Because it has become a habit and it feels beneficial.
Until that point, it’s natural that we seek a holy grail, a method that will overcome the endless avoidance tactics and procrastinations. Scrubbing down the shower becomes terribly appealing when compared with the prospect of sitting down and being with ourselves. Picking up that king of distraction, our phone, is more tempting than unrolling a yoga mat.
This is something worth digging into. For this first instalment, I’ll offer some generic tips and practical pointers that might apply to a home yoga, meditation, spiritual or personal development practice.
When planning a trip, a travel agent may suggest destinations and connections, proffer brochures, and make your bookings. In the end, the only person who takes the journey is you. In much the same way, as a teacher I can guide and share, but if you only ever practise in class, you’re missing out on the great adventure.
Tips and tricks
As someone who likes to-do lists, I note down my daily tasks and put ‘yoga’ at the top. Yes - first. Practising before getting on with everything else is a gift to myself and the people around me. I am usually more productive and grounded, a nicer person to be around, and my day tends to unfold more smoothly.
Be realistic. If you can manage only five minutes, accept this wholeheartedly and give yourself sincerely to your practice.
Choose a time that suits you best. I find early morning and before bed work well for me, and I accept that I have to be flexible too, grabbing a window of opportunity when it appears.
If it’s a formal practice you’re after, choose a spot at home that is comfortable, spacious enough and minimises disturbances.
Build the association between that location and your practice. You might include a ritual that engages your senses such as changing the lighting, lighting a candle, ringing a bell or burning some smelly stuff. Even moving furniture to create your space can become part of the experience.
Play around with a less formal practice. After my daughter was born, and probably for the first year of her life, my intention was to take one mindful breath each day. Just one breath in and one breath out, where I could fully experience the beauty - and the challenge - of being present. Sounds simple enough. It wasn’t. Sometimes I reached the end of the day, sleep-deprived and done-in, and realised I had not even managed this one aware breath. Which leads me to the next point.
Forgive yourself when it all goes to pot. Smother yourself in compassion and kindness. Who else is going to?
Let go of the belief that your practice has to feel or look a certain way or have any set outcome. Use the time as an opportunity to be with yourself. Acknowledge that this might be difficult. And scary.
The points above are all well and good. By far the hardest part is dealing with our conniving little mind and its tendency to scupper the best laid plans.
That’s one for the next instalment.