Renewal

Our April practice

Welcome to April. Spring ahoy! Feels like I can finally say this and mean it.

Not a lot has changed these last few weeks and, equally, everything has changed, is changing. Renewal is in the air. It stirs in the subtle uptick in my pulse, more bounce in my stride. My notebooks are getting busier again. Also: still moving at a snail’s pace because, well, there was frost on the ground yesterday and the plethora of malaise still working its way through my family and my own body forces me to be realistic about my capacities. I’m listening. A promise I made to myself as we crossed equinox just a few weeks ago. Because, well, balance.

Nevertheless, as I sat to plan my local community class the other day all I could think about was opening windows, so I popped up and made my way round the house, undoing latches and cracking glass panes open. The wind is still freezing in coastal Scotland where I live but something has shifted, less bite and more invitation. I breathe it in, deeply. It’s rainbow season. But you’ll only see them if you pay attention.

How do we open our internal windows?
What does renewal feel like in your body?

The questions land onto my yoga mat during my morning stretch and I’m drawn toward shoulder and hip openers, physical windows of sorts. We hold so much, moments of stress accumulating in our bodies like dust bunnies… When we release the buildup we remember who we are beneath all the things we’ve been carrying around in our haste. When we practice we meet ourselves in the moment, as we are, and our attention settles. There it is — space. Renewal. A remembrance of ourselves.

Our practice

While the release valve is different for each of us, I’ve always likened practicing yoga to opening windows. It airs things out, recirculates, and invites renewal. Eases tensions and creates space to be with ourselves as we are.

And so, a few favourite spring practices for subscribers (ICYMI members can access the video library as you wish, anytime) — use them to feel the openings that accompany your movement into spring.

And a new poem…

The clocks go forward
and we hurry to catch up
an hour lost, an hour gained
a season ends, another begins

Wind and sea as ice, still
going about their tasks shocking
us awake to awe and connection, attention
and intention

Hold a handful of sand but
you can’t really hold it, can you?
Feel it pour through your fingers, momentary
grains perfectly imperfect
space between the ticks

Let the haste dissipate
alongside distractions of the day —
Open your windows, greet yourself
in sweet remembrance, shifting
the architecture of your moments
with this breath and
this one

We have everything to catch and
to release.

– Springtime

Thank you for your practice. Wishing you a peaceful Easter and a spring full of renewals big and small.