If I may so myself, I’m probably the best person in the world to write this blog post. I’ve been practicing yoga for more years than I care to remember, but have fallen off the pesky yoga wagon more times than I’ve done chaturangas. (And I used to do a regular Ashtanga practice – so that’s A LOT.)
The reasons were varied. The logic was questionable. There were obviously those evenings where I had to go to the pub after work rather than go to class. Of course there were days when I had my period/tummy ache/a sore toe/couldn’t be bothered. And you’d never believe how many times the weather looked so dodgy I was worried about getting snowed in/rained out/heatstroke so thought it better to go straight home rather than go to a class. Insert eye-roll here.
To be honest the reasons really don’t matter any more. The way I see it is that the best relationships in life sometimes need a bit of time apart so that the parties are reminded how much they love each other when they come back together. Let’s just say yoga that ‘being on a break’ on a regular basis is what has meant that my practices and I are now deeply committed; even if we do have a little spat every now and again.
Before I embraced the whole Real Life Yoga way of looking at things, I felt like every time my asana fell off the wagon I was automatically the worst yoga student in the world. With every week that passed I’d feel even more awkward about possibly showing my face in the class again; I knew (or so I thought) that they’d all be judging me. How could I even consider myself as a worthy student when I was blown off the yoga path by so much as a sparrow’s sneeze?
It took me a good few years, some bouts of serious insecurity, a hefty dose of imposter syndrome, and the fundamental sabotaging of any confidence that can only be achieved from looking at social media, before I realised that if I wanted to keep yoga in my life (I did) then I needed to find a way to fit it into my real life.
So, whether this is your first or fiftieth time of finding yourself on the kerb as the yoga wagon rides off into the sunset, rest assured that there are plenty of ways you can hitch a ride back on it….
Know why you want to ride it.
What was the reason you first got onto the yoga mat? To soothe an aching back? To balance out a hectic life? To take some time to recharge your knackered batteries? Whatever the reason was then, check-in with what your reason is now. Maybe it has changed and you don’t feel as connected to the practice as you once did. Perhaps you need to find a new practice which better reflects what you need, or just get clear in your own mind about what your intention and how it has changed.
Pay for a round trip.
This alone is highly unlikely to give you the kick up the asana you need, but it’s amazing how a financial commitment can give you a little more of an incentive to pick up your mat and head out to class. Once you’re clear about your intention, and know what you need, you can find an online offering or class which fits. Sign up for a course of classes, or a deal which expires after a set length of time. All us yoga teachers always appreciate being able to afford to eat and we love being paid, but we’d much rather teach you too!
Think of it as a test drive.
If you want to sabotage a great plan, convince yourself that it absolutely totally positively has to be 100% successful. As soon as you proclaim to the world that you are going to be back on your yoga mat every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from now until 2030, the first time real life gets in the way you run the risk of thinking you might as well give up on the whole thing. So think of it as an experiment; tell yourself that you’re playing with seeing how this could work. Try once a week. Then try twice. Perhaps you’ll find that three online sessions and a bit of guided mindfulness is the perfect fit. Thinking of it like this means you’ll never get it ‘right’ or ‘wrong’; it is what it is.
Put on the ‘L’ plates for a while.
Whenever we get back behind the wheel it’s going to take us a while to build up our confidence again, so be kind to yourself. Don’t go flat out, flinging yourself straight back into the hardest hot 120 minute class you can find. Unless you have masochistic tendencies through which you can discover a new love for your practices, this approach is probably not going to end well. For a start it will be a week before you can walk down stairs without whimpering, so probably at least a fortnight before the trauma allows you to look at your yoga mat without wincing.
Your fellow passengers don’t care.
I say this with love – but if you’re lucky enough to be returning to a class in the real world, the folks still there really won’t care that you’ve been away. At best they’ll be pleased you’re back, but even if they do have an opinion about your sojourn from practice remember that what they think of you is none of your business. And if you think your teacher is going to judge you? Well, for a start if they do so out loud I highly suggest you find another teacher; one that isn’t an idiot. As teachers our priority is always the wellbeing of our students, but we’re real people too. We know that life happens, and will always be delighted to see you back in class whether it has been a week, a month or a year. (And if they don’t admit to falling off the yoga wagon too sometimes themselves, remember that they’re the weird one. Or lying.)
Get real about the trip.
Most of us want to think that if it wasn’t for real life we’d be on our mat for a three-hour enlightenment-inducing practice every single day. Our muscles would ripple, our joints would be supple, our skin would glow, our eyes sparkle, and our insides nurtured with nothing but organic home-grown produce. But that’s not real life. So be honest about what you can (and want to) commit to. For example, if you’re starting a home practice getting up at 5am for a 90 minute full-on-flow vinyasa practice may not be realistic. Or fun. But getting up a teensy bit earlier for 15 minutes of sun salutations and 5 minutes of mindfulness? That’s a little jaunt we can all enjoy.
Anyone can buy you the ticket. Only you can get on the wagon.
Here’s possibly the most obvious part of all of this, but whenever I’m lamenting the fact that I’m still not fluent in Spanish, or won the Booker prize, or can run 10km in under an hour without being sick in a hedge, its largely due to the fact that I obviously haven’t wanted it enough to actually get off my bum and put in the work required to achieve it.
The wonderful life coach Mel Robbins speaks of the danger of getting into the habit of complaining about not having something, when we’ve never got honest with ourselves about what it will take to get it.
If I want to be Yogini of the Year 2023 (not a real title….yet) I need to go forward in my mind to see what my daily life would have to look like to get me that title. Would I be able to enjoy my own bodyweight in pizza occasionally? Nope. Would I be able to have a day off my practice when I felt like I needed it? Doubtful. Would I be able to ride horses, drink plenty of Sauvignon Blanc, and binge-watch morally questionable TV programmes? No, no, and no. Am I willing to start making that commitment now? Umm – hell no. Stop beating yourself up for not doing the stuff that you really don’t want to do anyway.
So get real first. Then do everything you need to do if you really want to get back on the yoga wagon. Get curious about what will work for you, investigate the patterns you need to have to get what you want, then stick your metaphorical thumb out and the yoga wagon will fling its doors open for you at any time. (I know wagons don’t have doors but I’ve committed to this metaphor, dammit.)
Oh and if you go past my house, just check I’m not waiting on the pavement again.
Looking to get reacquainted with your practice? I promise it has been missing you…. Come join me for the perfect reunion with my online classes and be part of the Me Me Me Yoga Club (because sometimes it SHOULD be all about you). Get all the info here.