My family and I recently packed up our lives and moved them elsewhere, from our lovely spacious home in a lonely part of the world to a smaller, kinda crummy rental home in a thriving community. For me, the most important thing, was to claim a mat sized space to call my own in which to practice my daily habit. Without that, I’d be lost.
Having moved from a place with a mini yoga studio to call my own, to a small and grubby room in which I also must have my writing desk and film making stuff and an increasing pile of bills, it seemed a bit of a bum deal at first. But once I rolled out that mat on the first morning, and did my practice, I claimed the little space and I was happy.
How lucky to have a space to call my own, with no lego to step on or under couch dustballs to ponder over in headstand. How lucky to have a daily practice, a damn serious habit… something that is a given, like brushing the teeth. Second nature.
Habit is a powerful thing, sometimes selfish, sometimes obtuse. Always there. Even when travelling, camping, sick, tired, busy, broke, distracted, upset- however we find ourselves.
Without it, we all are lost.
And of all the habits in the world, a self practice of yoga and meditation are the ones I have chosen. What a blessing.
Here is a quote from the illustrious Mary Oliver on Habit:
What some might call the restrictions of the daily office they find to be an opportunity to foster the inner life. The hours are appointed and named… Life’s fretfulness is transcended. The different and the novel are sweet, but regularity and repetition are also teachers… And if you have no ceremony, no habits, which may be opulent or may be simple but are exact and rigorous and familiar, how can you reach toward the actuality of faith, or even a moral life, except vaguely? The patterns of our lives reveal us. Our habits measure us. Our battles with our habits speak of dreams yet to become real.