Re-routing

As anyone who has ever stepped onto a sticky mat knows, yoga is a metaphor for life. Sometimes the parallels are subtle—like learning the meaning of humility when you nail a tough pose and then quickly tumble out of it; or understanding patience when gently coaxing your body to learn a new one. And sometimes the parallels are lovingly-slap-you-upside-the-head obvious. That’s what I experienced lately. The lesson: Translating the suppleness in body I’ve accrued on the mat to flexibility in mind off the mat.

Let me start at the beginning to show you how I got there (and by there I mean seeing that this is a lesson I need to learn—not one that I’ve mastered quite yet.)

I love routines. Ask me what I’ve had for lunch for the past 20 years and you’ll see just how much I cling to my routines for dear life. The way I see it, there is so much to think about and so many decisions to make on a daily basis. Creating habits that are more reliable than a gray sky in January eliminates the need to make so many decisions, clearing up mental space to tackle the more unexpected events life lofts our way from one moment to the next.

But life is not static. So a routine that works for us in one scenario may become burdensome when life veers off in a different direction. And that’s exactly what happened to me.

The avenue through which I learned this very yogic lesson came from…wait for it…yoga of all places (shocker, I know.) Since I first began my practice four years ago, I’ve always (always) taken classes in the evening. It made the most sense. It didn’t interfere with my workday, it gave me an incentive to step away from my computer at a reasonable hour, and it was a pleasant way to transition from work mode to me mode.

But about a month ago I realized that this routine wasn’t as lovely as it appeared. I often had to detach myself from my computer while there were still fires burning in my inbox—not the most ideal way to show up to a yoga class. By the time I drove home after class and walked the dogs, it was often 8:30 or 9pm before I sat down to dinner. Not my favorite. And as much as I love backbends, doing half a dozen of them is the energetic equivalent of downing several shots of espresso and then trying to fall asleep a few hours later.

So what other options did I have? I could take a morning class, sure, but that would be crazy! Most other people would be at work while I’d be twisting and folding on my mat. That would be way too indulgent! And what would happen in my inbox while I was away from my iMac? My editors are used to my rapid-fire responses and now, sometimes, they’d have to wait an hour or more before my reply. Surely, my career would fall apart.

I drummed up enough courage earlier this month to try just one a.m. yoga class. And guess what? None of this happened. When I flipped on my iPhone and loaded my e-mail afterward, I realized that the world did not end just because I checked out (or checked in, depending on how you look at it) for two hours. (Go figure.) In fact, I’m able to return to my desk with a more even temper and a clearer conscience and work more efficiently thanks to my morning practice. To compensate for the time away, I often work later into the evening, but this gives me the opportunity to wrap up more items than I could when I was rushing out the door at 5 p.m. The result? A calmer mind when I climb into bed. Even better, I can give those badass backbends all the gusto I like and ride the energetic wave throughout the rest of the afternoon. It’s kind of awesome.

I totally understand that having the ability to take a yoga class at any time I like is a luxury. I get it. And I’m still working on getting over the guilt I feel when taking advantage of this luxury. But what good is this unique career and life I’ve created for myself if I don’t reap the benefits? Before, I may as well have signed up for a job in a cubicle because I had basically boxed myself in with my routines anyway.

The implications of this shift have reached much farther than dictating the time of day that I practice yoga (and if I can’t make a morning class then I go in the evening—another way in which I’ve let go of some rigidity.) More importantly, I’ve taken this lesson as an opportunity to reexamine other routines in my life that may no longer work for me, as hard as I have tried to hold on to them. I ask myself: Does this routine make my life happier/calmer/better/easier/more blissful/more fun? With the answers, I’ve released several of them and revised others.

I still believe that routines have their place as long as they are an intentional part of our daily existence instead of an automatic one without purpose or meaning. With this in mind, I’m still okay admitting that I am and probably will always be a creature of habit (if nothing else, it makes me a very reliable friend!)

And as far as my daily lunch is concerned? Well that’s not about to change any time soon.