For the first time since my daughter was born (nearly 2 years ago), I have a habitual, formal meditation practice. This feels really good.

Of course, I tend to think that parenting itself is my ultimate practice in mindfulness. And I was quite literally so present to each breath the first six months or so of Oona’s life that I retained scarcely a memory of that time… impressions certainly, but between the Kali-embodied protectiveness, sleeplessness, and absolute fascination with it all, remembering would have pulled me from the moment in a way I simply was unwilling or unable to bear.

In between then and now, I have sat in meditation sporadically. Every time felt lovely, but it was fleeting and sporadic.

Thirty-one days ago today, I recommitted myself to daily practice. It began with 10 minutes here and there, whenever I could squeeze it in, now I am generally practicing between 15 and 30 minutes every afternoon at 2:30.

It is easier to do/not do something regularly, than occasionally. I think I read that in Twyla Tharp’s The Creative Habit. It’s true. The trick for yogis is to not become obsessive about it, to do the work (abhyasa) without attachment to results (vairagya).

Daily practice allows for subtle work to take shape. We can begin to compare without judgment. Noticing smaller and smaller increments of shifting.

How I practice Now.

Set the tone: light a candle, wash hands, say prayer.

Find seat: stretch, move, then settle into my sitting bones.

Find breath: practice 5+ minutes of pranayama.

Sit: fill myself with presence.

Finish: with gratitude.

Do you sit? How? When? Where?

love, kelly