The Practice of Returning

My grandmother used to stand on her front porch overlooking the lake to take photos of the sunset over and over again. We have a stack of photo albums full of pictures of that same scene, over the years, over the decades. My mom and I used to laugh as we flipped through those pages, but you know what? We do it too. We sit on the porch of what was my grandmother’s cottage and when the sun sets, we stand at attention with our phones ready to capture what appears in the sky. My dad does too. We laugh at ourselves, but it’s our routine.

It may be the silliest, most pointless ritual - we rarely can capture the brilliance of the pinks and reds and blues in an iPhone photo - but also, maybe it’s the most important thing we do.

Because we return. We return to the same place, to the same view, over and over, ready to be awed by how it looks this time. So much of it looks the same. The water and the trees and the houses across the lake are all in the same place, roughly the same color. The sky is always where it usually is, but it looks so different with these clouds and this light, right now. Each time it feels so special that we are compelled to document what we see in our camera rolls and show all of our friends on Instagram.

It’s tempting and wonderful to seek out new views, new adventures, new experiences. New perspectives expand us. And, there is so much value in returning. Over and over again. Each time we return, we reach a new depth, a new layer of richness is revealed. We return with presence again and again and each time find that there is so much that is new here. 

When we practice yoga, we are returning to our breath, our bodies, to our inner knowing. We are returning to ourselves, leaving the distractions and demands of our daily lives outside, just for an hour or so. We return to class, and see the same familiar faces lined up next to us, we return to a community. We return to our mat, to the familiar poses, to see what shows up this time, this class, this moment. Your first down dog of class likely feels different than your last down dog of class. Maybe last time you nailed a certain pose, but this time your balance just wasn’t there. It’s okay. Nobody’s deducting any points, you’re not getting a report card. We keep showing up to see what arrives this time, (hopefully) without judgement of ourselves. This is practice, this is non-attachment. The yoga of returning.

P.S.

The first time I walked into Repose Yoga Studio in 2019, I was returning to yoga for the 2nd time, after a 7 or 8 year break. I never could have imagined that one day 5 years later I’d be a yoga teacher, let alone that 6 years later I’d be teaching classes at Repose. But I went that first time, and I kept returning. To class, to teachers I felt connected to, to the practice. And slowly, gradually, a path unfolded in front of me. I may not have even been aware of it at times, but I kept returning and the path kept going. Returning ushered me forward.