Lounging on a white sand beach. Pooh Bear with a belly full of honey. Ah, the feeling of contentment. I realized when I think of the term, my vision sways to either picture book fiction or spa-grade fantasy, i.e., scenarios unattainable on a typical Tuesday.

Yet, yoga asks that we seek contentment as a guiding principle for harmony in our day-to-day lives. Contentment isn’t just a vacation event. It’s there, patiently waiting for us to uncover among the bustle and discord of our common days, thoughts and interactions.

So often yoga classes start with the teacher asking students, “Check in with yourself.” We may scan our bodies for knots and pains, note the pace and tenor of our mind’s thought track, and weightiness of our emotions. We don’t always check in with our spirit, and the fluidity of our connection to it. Explore these prompts for a line to your spirit.

Early in my yoga practice, I often rushed to the studio straight from work. I quickly shed my conservative suit, rolled out my purple mat and exhaled, or was it melted? Getting to class was a push after failing to extract myself from the office on time, but part of my scurry was a desire to whisk past the oddities on the studio shop’s shelves. 

I’d always loved hearing stories about ghost sightings or angel assists. I wanted to believe. Yet when I heard a firsthand account, it inevitably threw me. I thought I was open to the possibility of what we do not normally see or understand in our physical world, but my very rational left brain analysis kicked in and spit out a “does not compute” response, usually in the form of copious tears streaming down my cheeks.

I think fear at the notion of the paranormal landing so close to my reality zone threw me into a confused state of irreconciliation. I trusted the person telling me their story, yet I found it unbelievable on some level. Until it came my turn to meet face-to-face with a seemingly impossible being and I surrendered to possibility.