Yoga. That’s what I’ve been up to these last three weeks of absent-minded posting and uploading videos of me in the my garden. In fact, on Thursday, my sister stopped by and, while we conversed about other things, like our never-ending renovations and the new table we just bought for the dining room, she threw in a, “Um, can you stop uploading videos of yourself in the garden? It’s boring. Get back to writing.. seriously.”

So, here I am.

After teaching yoga off and on for seven years (and full-time for three years in my early 20s) I had never felt so disconnected from the practice as I did once I started my magazine career two years ago. I’m not sure why, although I suspect there was some kind of disconnect in my mind that decided there was no bridge between the two worlds. Or maybe I was just too busy to do yoga. Or maybe I thought I was. Anybody’s guess, really.

I enrolled myself in this  yoga course at one of the city’s most renowned and top studios. It’s been on my personal to-do list for years, but something always seemed to get in the way – finances, work, timing, fear.

What if I discover I don’t love yoga anymore?
What if I’m not a good teacher?
What if I’m a bad student?

But then I realized, that, in order to be a good teacher you must first be a good student. So I enrolled in the course. Because I want to be a good teacher and because I miss loving yoga. I miss loving myself as a person who does yoga, because when yoga is part of what I do, life seems a little more flexible.

On Monday mornings, class starts at 7:30 a.m. The course is a full month of Monday-to-Friday-all-day-yoga. I’m always 10 minutes late for class. To a fault, I am 10 minutes late for most things. I’m not sure if that’s a bad habit or a signature move, but nonetheless, it’s a fact.

So, one morning, I slipped into class and unrolled my yoga mat in the back corner of the room, hoping to go unnoticed. Which I did. Nobody’s moves during morning meditation. As I lay there, unmoving and unflinching, somewhere between the quiet spaces of my deep belly breath, this occurred to me:

BEGIN WHERE YOU ARE.

In those four words I felt as though I figured out a new way to do things, like the first time you realize that your tan waist belt can go with your green dress and with your blue skirt (only more profound than that). Either way, a big, important moment of discovery because you just realized how to give yourself options.

I waited for years for the ‘right time’ to do a lot of things: I’ll start saving money just as soon as I pay off my student debt. I’ll start my blog just as soon as I figure out the perfect first post. I’ll quit my job when I figure out what to do with my life. I’ll start a business just as soon…

The list is long. And I’ll bet my yoga pants that yours is, too. But, at the end of the day, there is little option left in, “I’ll do this just as soon as I do that…” This way, you’ve only given yourself one road to get to where you want to be, when there are really more ways than one to get what you want. Does that make sense?

That morning, as I lay still on my mat, breathing in-out, in-out, in-out with such cohesion to my consciousness I thought I might cry or vomit or something, the words begin where you are became very loud and clear to me. It was the very translation of that annoying phrase, live in the moment, which only seems to confuse people who can’t seem to still their minds long enough for a full breath, let alone a moment. But, to me, “begin where you are” was a ‘how to’ of what living in the moment means:

START HERE.

I’m telling you, this was a breakthrough for me. And I happened on its own: No dogmatic teachings. No guru-infused learnings. No self-helpy jargon. This was a phrase that started to grow inside of me after I read this book the week before. The phrase was planted and then grew into a full-blown thought, right there on my mat that morning.

And so, the next morning and every morning since then, I simply begin.

I do my very best not to carry yesterday’s burdens with me into today. But, as easy as that sounds, it’s not as easy as it seems. There is work involved in starting fresh, right from where you are standing. Much like the work I do on my mat in yoga class, twisting and binding, breathing and stretching, that work is a conscious effort and it’s practicing that consciousness that has helped me realize these days that starting from where you stand it often better than leaping to where you want to end up.