Source: Courtesy Pixabay photo-graphe
Yoga in the morning. A restful sleep. Not too many people on the roads.

Some of us know each other, some are new to the class. A woman I haven't seen before, puts down her mat and says, I guess I should get the other crap now too. I laugh, yoga and crap, two words I have not combined in one sentence in a while. She looks around, and goes to get the props we'll use today.

We are all new to this building, a new location, some distance from our previous site. Brand new, finding our way, hoping there are coat racks this week. Finding our preferred spot in this long, narrow room. So different from what we were used to, where we each knew where we belonged.

My yoga teacher reminds us to slow our breath. She tells us we will build the class to finish with some balancing. There are loud groans in the class.

She guides us to standing on one leg, swaying, looking upward, growing our branches. There are giggles of frustration or embarrassment as we take turns falling out of the pose.

Each day differs from the one before, our teacher says, some days we are solid, some days we waver.

Searching for the middle to keep your balance.

In our family, our work, our yoga practice. In the traffic, in our relationships, in our goals.

There are days when our class is easier than others. Some days all we can manage is to sway. Balance is serious business. (Tweet This) Don't forget to breathe. But if we keep our eyes forward, we know that we are in this together, we can see the humour in our daily practise.

As in our new yoga studio, each day we know that things are not the same. That there will be surprises (what, that was only 2 hour parking?). That someone will arrive late and distract you. That someone in the corner is sneezing, again.

At the end of the class, we all put away our props (our toys?), we lend a hand to others to clean up, we chat with the stranger, and welcome back those we haven't seen for a few weeks, we smile at how much the young pregnant woman has grown. We glow with her.

We're all looking for the middle, we enjoy the familiar, sometimes we brace for the new, and then with time, it becomes normal (Tweet This). We can hardly remember when it was new. We just need to keep our balance until then.

And most often, if we just put away our own crap, we can find the middle together.

That constant search for something between the familiar and the new is our learning. That moment of comfort keeps us in balance.

We need the middle until we find a new middle. That's how we grow. (Tweet This)

Now tell me, how do you find your balance in the middle?

Be well,