I was worried that I’d burnt out on yoga.

Then the pandemic closed all the studios, and I realized what I was really burnt out on was the “business” of yoga—

the expensive studios,

the appropriation,

the misleading YTTs,

the competitive comparisons,

the class “levels,”

the wannabe gurus,

the poor pay teachers received,

the lack of inclusivity,

etc.

Noise.

None of it really had anything to do with Yoga.

At home, the only business I’m minding is my own.

Some days I get very serious and nerdy with my alignment and my props.

Some days I sweat it out with jump-backs and handstands.

Some days I don’t get further than Child’s Pose.

Some days I skip it entirely so I can spend more time reading Sarah J. Maas or watching Real Housewives.

However it turns out, my yoga practice is chosen and directed by me, based on what I need and want.

I’m sure there will come a time when I’ll miss the heat of a packed room, and decide to show up for class somewhere. The energy can be uplifting at its best. For now, I’m content to move and breathe in the quite of my own body and home.

The choice—to recognize what I need, and act accordingly—is also part of the practice.