Yoga Practice and Challenges

Every January, we’re flooded with challenges promising transformation in neat, measurable packages: 20 days, 30 days, 40 days to a better body, calmer mind, newer you. Yoga often gets swept into this culture of improvement, reduced to something to complete, track, and check off. And while these challenges can be motivating for some, they can also quietly teach us that if we fall behind, miss a day, or need to stop, we’ve somehow failed.

The truth is, most yoga practices don’t fall apart because we lack willpower. They unravel because life intervenes. Pain shows up. Chronic conditions flare. Energy dips. Caregiving, grief, work, weather, and the sheer weight of being human interrupt even the best intentions. When yoga is framed as a rigid commitment, these very real experiences can make us feel disconnected from a practice that was meant to support us.

Yoga isn’t an exercise program designed to be conquered in a set number of days. It isn’t a before-and-after project. It’s a relationship - one that changes over time. Some seasons invite movement and strength. Others ask for stillness, gentleness, or simply paying attention to breath while lying on the floor. All of these are yoga. None of them need to be justified.

The irony is that the moments that derail our practice are often the moments when practice matters most. When we’re tired, overwhelmed, or in pain, the invitation isn’t to push harder - it’s to listen more closely. A sustainable practice is one that allows for inconsistency, adaptation, and rest without shame. One that doesn’t disappear just because we do less.

As an antidote to “new year, new you,” yoga offers something quieter and more radical: staying with who you already are. Practicing not to fix yourself, but to accompany yourself. Over weeks, months, and years - not because you completed a challenge, but because you kept returning in whatever way you could.

If you’re feeling called to begin a yoga practice - or to return to one that fell away - you’re welcome to reach out. There’s room to start slowly, to adapt, to ask questions, and to build something that supports you for the long run.