August 18th, 2026

I learned something really interesting about my mother during her funeral.

When my mothers brother spoke at the funeral, he revealed that my mother had been unable to walk while she was a young girl. After several surgeries and a great deal of physical therapy, she eventually became ambulatory. My sisters and I had absolutely no idea. She must have been about 7 or 8, or older, when she left behind her chair because my uncle remembers that remarkable transition.

My mother was understandably fearful about the possibility of ending up in a wheelchair later in life. Now I understand why. She had already worked so hard to overcome one. Unfortunately she ended up back in one when she was in her late 60’s.
My father also ended up in a wheelchair later in life after breaking his hip. He had spent much of his younger life being very active—he was, as my mother used to say, “not much of a sitter.” He had even been very interested in fitness for a time. But after his hip fracture, complications from anesthesia and a prolonged period of being bedridden made it increasingly difficult for him to regain his mobility, and eventually he became a “sitter.”

We can all look back at our lives and see the things that have shaped who we are. I can certainly say that one of the reasons I am so focused on helping people's bodies work better is because of my parents.

During the week, I receive newsletters from various organizations, and I often bookmark articles that I think I might share here. Lately, many of them have been about “superagers”—people who maintain remarkable physical function as they grow older—and about how important movement is to longevity.

Science continues to show us how important it is to pay attention to our muscles as we move them. (There was just a study that showed they will work better and faster when you do, as we in the yoga world already knew! That is one of the many reasons you are asked to focus on what you are doing in an asana). Science, and experience, also tells us we need to keep moving, eat well, and continue challenging our bodies. There are people who, through consistent effort, have maintained physical abilities far beyond what was once thought possible.

I was going to share one of those articles.

But then I remembered what I had just learned about my mother.
And I thought perhaps this story was more valuable.

My mother was unable to walk by the time others her age were running and jumping, yet through surgeries, physical therapy, determination, and hard work, she became a walker. And yet, as I watched both of my parents age, I saw them become less inclined to remain active and mobile. Their bodies became harder to move, and eventually the uphill battle to stay mobile was lost.

I don't think a lot of able-bodied people realize what a blessing it is to have an able body.
You would think with my parents, and the years I worked at the United Cerebral Palsy camp (with disabled children) I would have figured that out a long time ago.  But I don't think it was until I learned about my mothers early challenge that I really got it. 

As we age, we are going to witness our physical abilities gradually change. Strength, balance, flexibility, hearing, vision, skin tone—all of it changes. These changes are a part of being human.

And this is one of the many places a full yoga practice offers us something incredibly valuable.

Yoga teaches us to be content with what is. As our physical abilities change  we learn to meet ourselves where we are rather than constantly fighting against what our bodies can no longer do and wishing for something to be other than what it is.

But yoga also teaches us right action.

If we are still able to move, we should move. We should do it intelligently and safely, in ways that support the body rather than harm it.

So no, you are not doing crazy acrobatic asanas in your 60s and 70s. (Maybe just a few... if they were something you did in your younger years.)

If you still have some range of motion, you may be able to improve it. Or you can keep using it so you don't lose what you have. Same with strength. If you have some, use it. You can improve it, or just not lose it (which is big by the way!).

I meet many older people who come into the store and talk to me about yoga. They have physical limitations and who would really like to begin practicing yoga, but they keep putting it off. They worry that they can't do it, that they might fail, or that they might hurt themselves.
Fair—but it's not going to get easier if you wait longer.

Those of you who know me and have come to classes know that you are going to be okay. You won't be asked to do something you can't do. You will put your toe in the water, and when you are ready, you can go in deeper. And the things that hurt are going to feel better. 

If you're reading this, I'm guessing there is some part of you that wants to remain physically engaged with your life—to continue walking, gardening, traveling, playing with your grandchildren, getting up and down from the floor, or simply being able to move through your day with greater ease.

It's not too late.

You don't have to start where someone else is. You don't have to be flexible. You don't have to be strong. You simply have to begin where you are.

Yoga is meant to be adapted to our lifetime—from beginning to end. Our practice changes as we change.

And perhaps one of the greatest practices is learning to recognize the blessings we have right now.

My mother taught me that without ever saying a word about it.

She knew what it was like to fight for the ability to walk.
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Maybe we can learn from her to appreciate the ability to move while we have it—and to take good care of this remarkable body that carries us through our lives.