Yoga in the Garden

“A person who never made a mistake, never tried anything new”  ― Albert Einstein

I love trying new things. Discovering dreams, pursuing passions, and life-long learning are personal priorities. With this said, I’m about to embark on an exciting expedition, and I hope you, readership, will benefit from my endeavors. I’m going to “beautify this blog” and I couldn’t be more excited. This summer I’m launching into writing workshops and personal projects that will help me re-define my vision for success. As I’m working on mission statements, marketing, etc. I’m filled with anticipation and awe. The awe is coming from places I didn’t expect, so I’ll begin with my new mantra: “yoga in the garden.”

Growing up I was athletic, but somewhere between college and my thirties, most likely due to inconsistent exercise, I became stiff and clumsy. So when yoga was introduced into my life I eagerly accepted it, but with some skepticism in the deep, dark hallways of my heart.

My first lesson was beyond awkward. If the instructor asked me inhale, I exhaled. If I was supposed to move to the left, I moved to the right. I was my own opponent. My second lesson was even more awkward. I remember being surprised by my relentless and unforgiving perspiration, and amidst the silence I heard myself grunt and/or groan while holding a plank. Furthermore, my “tree” pose looked more like a shrub. Truly visualize this to imagine my horror.

Essentially, my list of insecurities was endless, my embarrassment beyond measure, but I kept going back. Despite being a novice, I was navigating nirvana. My happiness was directly tied to my humility. I lacked knowledge, skill, and discipline, but I was addicted to the pure peace I found in knowing nothing and embracing everything.

Insert terrible transition to gardening. I never understood gardens, or gardeners for that matter. My mother loves gardens and transformed my childhood home’s backyard to her personal paradise. Now that I have my own home, with a small space of green, I long to see if I inherited gardening genes. Like yoga, I lack knowledge and skill. One trip to Home Depot and one adult tantrum later, I have oodles of seed packets and plans, so here’s hoping my soil is rich and the sunshine spectacular.

I’ve gained some confidence in yoga, but I’m going mad over the garden. When I started to think about these hobbies I realized the lessons learned so far, along with the challenges confronted and/or conquered, add greater value and vivacity to my life. So my new mantra is “yoga in the garden.” While it may seem strange to some, it makes perfect, awkward, uncomfortable, rewarding, fun, and challenging sense to me.


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