Everything we do in life

As I write this, I am getting ready to return to the USA. It feels like the right time. As much as I have loved "living" here in Portugal for the past month, my heart is beginning to pull me home.
I miss the studio and the store. I miss all of you. I miss my dog, my garden, and—believe it or not—I even miss scouring powder! And, if I'm being completely honest, I miss my clothing dryer (especially with my adorable little dryer balls).

This month has been a gift. I've had the opportunity to slow down, settle into a different rhythm of life, and meet so many wonderful people. I am especially grateful to everyone who greeted me with kindness and patience, especially when I needed to stumble through my very limited Portuguese. Every conversation, every smile, and every shared moment reminded me that human connection often speaks louder than words.

I've been "practicing" yoga in one form or another for more than 35 years. When we say we are practicing something, it implies—at least to me—that we are never really finished. There is always more to know, more to learn, more to experience. In many ways, we're all practicing life.
Before coming to Portugal, I thought my Portuguese had improved so much since my last visit. It turns out...I was mostly wrong. Now that I had to use it on the streets, I can't even imagine how long I'll have to practice before I can hold a real conversation without  gestering with my hands around or relying on Google Translate.

That's exactly how I feel about yoga.

Exactly how long will I have to practice before I can meet life with complete steadiness? Before I don't freeze, panic, or lose my footing when things don't go according to plan? It feels like that practice might take a very, very long time.

But then I remembered...

I could partially understand the flight attendant on the plane when she spoke in Portugues. I could follow much of what the yoga teacher was saying when I was in class. I could participate in simple conversations at restaurants. None of it was perfect, but it was undeniably more than I could do before.

The same is true off the mat.

I can roll with some of life's punches. I can often stay grounded when things become chaotic. I can be discerning—especially if I've had breakfast. (Some spiritual truths are surprisingly practical.)

These are all practices. Everything we do in life is a practice. They are never finished.

I'll probably never be as fluent in Portuguese as I'd like to be. I'll probably never be as calm and centered as I'd like to be when everything around me is falling apart. But am I better than I was before I started to practice?

I think the answer is yes.

And that's enough to give me the encouragement to keep showing up, to keep practicing, and to keep learning.

Even motherhood! Just when I thought I might finally be getting the hang of it, my children went ahead and grew up. Now that they are adults, being a mother has changed, and so too has the practice. 
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Maybe that's the beauty of practice. There is no finish line, no graduation day where we've mastered whatever we were practicing. There is only the invitation to return, again and again, with curiosity, humility, and a willingness to begin, or continue, exactly where we are.
I'll see you back at the studio soon. I can't wait to continue practicing together.