It’s All Yoga.

With a wolf dog at home, I never know what kind of day I’m going to have. It’s always an adventure. Case in point: See video above of what it’s like to teach a virtual class these days.

The side of me that wants everything to be exactly right for my classes – the lighting to be just so, the sound to be a perfect volume and blend, the class structure to flow flawlessly – has been challenged daily since inviting into my life the chaos of a 75-pound puppy with issues with other people and dogs. Nothing ever goes as planned. And not just when it comes to teaching yoga from home. Every aspect of my daily life has changed over the last year and a half. A walk is not just a walk; it is an endeavor that takes all of my attention, patience, and, at times, physical strength. Having guests over is no longer as simple as a text that says “see you in a few.” It is a multi-step briefing:

“When you get here, let me know and we’ll come outside. We’ll do some circles outside on the leash before we all go inside together. For now, just ignore him and pretend he’s not there even when he’s howling at you. Don’t make eye contact, even if he looks like he wants you to pet him. Don’t pet him – especially over the head – but for now, actually just play it safe and don’t pet him at all. I’ll give you some treats to hand him eventually, but even when he takes them, avoid eye contact. Don’t let him smell your fear. Looking forward to having you over for game night!”

The house is never clean anymore. Things are not tidy. Hair is everywhere. Mud is always being tracked on the floors and on the carpet. We used to have a white couch and chair in the living room… it is no longer the same color palette. Life is more chaotic in every way.

And I’d bet that in your own way, you can relate. Maybe it’s with pets, kids, a big job change, a cross-country move, or some other kind of life altering news. Chaos is as woven into the tapestry of our lives as is breath. It is simply part of it. A texture that is required in order for all the various fabrics to intertwine and knit together.

And over the last year or so, my yoga practice has revealed itself to me in yet a new way (it tends to do that; the more time spent with it, the more I realize I have to learn). I know that I lean on my practice, things like asana and pranayama and meditation, to create space and pause, to find an anchor through which I can navigate whatever life is tossing my way. And, I am beginning to understand to a new extent what the outcome may or may not be from this. The practice is as valuable, as necessary, as ever, regardless of what happens because of it. It’s the tool to move through the path, and it’s the path itself. The Bhagavad Gita teaches of growth happening in the doing, not in the outcome. And while I’ve read and heard this time after time, I’m beginning to see it with new eyes.

When there is chaos, breathe anyway. Breathe even when the chaos doesn’t go away. Get grounded and centered in your heart and move wholeheartedly from that place. Nothing may resolve. It’s still worth it.

My dog, Oso, is who he is. I will still train with him daily. But I know we are not on a path towards him becoming a Golden Retriever. He has good days and bad days as he interacts with the world. Sometimes my neighbors shout rude things at us from over the fence. Sometimes I take it personally. Then I remember my practice. I will do my best to take care of him, redirect him, and teach him alternate ways to react to what makes him anxious. The rest is not mine to hold onto. He’s where he’s supposed to be, and I’m right where I’m supposed to be. And it’s all yoga.