Several months ago I upgraded my computer. It was four and a half years old, rather ancient in computer years, and I had procrastinated for over a year. In the past, when I upgraded my computer, there were problems. When I switched from my first computer to my second many years ago, a part failed the first time I turned it on and smoke poured out of the back. My upgrade in 2000 required hours and hours on the phone over several days because I could not connect to the Internet.

Computers have come a long way in four years and I was pleasantly surprised when it took less than five minutes to establish an Internet connection. The only hassle was getting Windows, the firewall and the antivirus software to cooperate. Now I have a reasonably safe computer that runs at a satisfactory speed. I should have done this years ago!

Like most people, I tend to avoid things that have caused me problems in the past. In some ways this is smart; I learn from my mistakes. However, in some cases, like my computer, avoiding the discomfort of upgrading held me back. I can now burn backup CDs and I have a new email program and Internet browser that would not have run on my old machine. I am sure there are all types of features I have not discovered yet.

In the yoga classes I teach, it is very obvious there are some poses that people do not like and do not practice at home very often. We tend to enjoy the poses we can do well and those are the ones we practice. Through practice we see improvement and we tend to like those poses even more. Yet, each pose has a purpose. If you do one class of poses like forward bends to the exclusion of other poses like backbends, over time your body becomes unbalanced. Your hamstrings become more flexible while your hip flexors may tighten. To bring your body into balance, you need to practice a range of poses, creating both strength and flexibility.

One practice method is to choose poses you do not like and do those as your yoga practice a few times a month. Another is to choose a pose or two you find challenging and add it to your regular practice. These poses may not become your absolute favorites, but you may find over time they are not your absolute least favorite poses either.

How often have you avoided something you know you need to do, but have held back because you did not want to deal with the discomfort? One student told me her method of handling tasks is to do the least pleasant tasks first, and then the rest are easy. If you do the easy or fun tasks first and postpone the less agreeable tasks, they tend to stay at the back of your mind and the idea of doing them becomes even more unappealing.

It is human nature to be attracted to that which is pleasurable, but when taken to an extreme, there can be pitfalls, such as overeating or over exercising. Our behavior can be equally influenced by that which we attempt to avoid.

When you find you are avoiding something, is it wisdom gained from past experience, or would your life be enhanced by working through the discomfort so you can enjoy what is on the other side?

I was in a sorority in college. It was the newest sorority at the school, only four years old when I joined my freshman year. The year it was founded, the first members rented a house for a weekend about an hour away and spent the weekend creating the bylaws, rules and guidelines by which the sorority would function. The next year they met at the same house to revise them and to discuss plans for the following year. They met at the same place again the year after that. By the time I joined the sorority, the weekend administrative retreat had become a tradition.

My senior year roommate was the sorority vice president and it was her responsibility to organize and run the retreat. The group had grown over the years from less than twenty women to almost one hundred. My roommate did not think that crowding that many college-age women in a house together would result in any meaningful decisions, but she did not want to break tradition, so we went back to the same house yet again.

The weekend resulted in a lot of tired and grumpy women, but accomplished very little else. My roommate suggested that that the officers the following year create a new tradition and do something entirely different.

Very often, when beginning something new, procedures and practices are created out of necessity. They are not meant to become set in stone; they are just created to get everything started. The hope is that processes and procedures will evolve with time. The tendency however, is to get stuck and to do things in a certain way because that is the way they have always been done.

Our minds and bodies tend to get stuck in their own habits. We often travel down the same mental paths, getting stuck in worries about the past or in anticipation of the future even when it is not productive. We tend to have physical habits like sitting with the same leg crossed over the other or crossing our arms with the same arm in front each time. These actions may have begun because they were comfortable or because this is what we saw our parents do. Over time, these actions became habits as we repeated them.

Actually, we have thousands of thoughts a day and our bodies change constantly. Think about how you feel when you roll out of bed in the morning. Your body is likely to be stiff and tight. By the end of the day, your body is very different. You are probably more flexible than you were first thing in the morning and your body reflects your actions of the day. If you have sat or stood for long periods of time or have exercised, you probably feel the effects.

To change an unnecessary or unproductive habit, we first must become aware of it. An odd wrist ache may prompt us to examine how we hold our hands and shoulders when we use our computer. A recurring back ache may encourage us to sit or stand differently. If we find we are constantly worried because our thoughts are mired in a persistent concern, this may be a sign that something in our lives should change.

Some structure is necessary to function. A group does not operate well without rules and procedures, and we cannot relearn how to walk every morning. However, there is something to be said for thinking outside of the box when our normal routine becomes counterproductive. By studying our habits and traditions, we may enjoy the freedom that a breath of fresh air provides.

The only times I watched weather reports when I was little were in the winter when there was the possibility of snow. When snow was mentioned, the anticipation began. If the weatherman predicted a lot of snow, I of course agreed with him, hoping there would be enough to close the schools the next day. If the forecaster just predicted flurries or a scant inch or two, I would decide he was wrong and hope for large quantities of snow anyway. Sometimes I would even get up a few times during the night to check how much, if any, snow had fallen.

When I woke up the next morning, I was either overjoyed that there was enough snow to close the schools, or dejected that there was not much snow at all. The anticipation of snow and the actual snowfall colored my attitude for the first few hours of those days.

As spring approaches, there is a hint of warmth in the air on some days and the bite of winter on others. At lunch recently, one woman said that March is her least favorite month because you get your hopes up for warm weather, then the wind and cold return. Early spring brings continuous expectation and disappointment.

We have expectations about so many things including the people around us. In some cases we have low expectations and we are pleasantly surprised when the person does something seemingly out of character to exceed them. Just as often, our expectations of others are unrealistically high and when they are not met, we are disappointed.

Our expectations extend to our careers as well. I expected to be a computer programmer at a medium to large company and advance within the company, or maybe in my late thirties move into consulting work. Instead, I became a consultant before I was thirty and now I own a yoga center. Though it has turned out for the best, there were a few years of inner turmoil when my expectations did not coincide with reality.

For better or worse, reality often does not exactly fit our expectations. Years ago, an engineering friend showed me the equation:

Satisfaction = f (Reality – Expectations)

My friend was talking about marketing computer systems and how the client’s satisfaction was directly related to his expectations.  If the client’s expectations were not met by the new computer system, he would not be satisfied.

In the case of computer systems, a client can demand changes, but we usually do not have the same control over everything that happens around us. We cannot change the weather or people’s personalities much less direct all the outside factors that shape our lives. Reality is as it is, no matter what our expectations are. In the end, our choice lies in whether or not we let our expectations control our enjoyment of life.  When the trees begin to sprout a haze of green and the flowers start to grow, we can either enjoy or despise the cool reminder of winter on the cold and windy days. The weather will not change, though our attitude towards it can.

When reality and your expectations do not mesh, how do you react? Are you pleasantly surprised or are you disappointed? Can you allow reality to just be and enjoy it for what it is? Many times, it is precisely the unexpected that takes our lives in new and sometimes exciting directions.

We have all had the experience of attending a new school, whether it is the first day of kindergarten or switching to a new high school mid year. As the first day approaches, there is the thrill of anticipation mixed with the disquiet of facing the unknown. Excited thoughts of new adventures are mingled with concerns of fitting in and finding friends.

As we move beyond school, there are major events like new jobs, marriage and having children, each of which is accompanied by that same mix of excitement and apprehension. A similar rush of adrenaline and ache in the pit of the stomach can be felt before smaller moments like leading a meeting for the first time or throwing a first party. There is always a chance something unexpected could happen.

Once we have done something many times, the excitement and unease fade. It becomes just another meeting or party, nothing to get too excited about. What was a huge nerve-wracking event becomes commonplace. Sometimes we feel that we are doing the same thing over and over again, year in and year out. We drive the same routes, work with the same people and see the same neighbors. We may feel we are in a deep rut.

The yoga center has a predictable flow: the brochures for the next session are mailed, registration starts, the current session ends, there is a short break and then the new session begins. Yet each session brings new students and many returning students change classes, levels and instructors. There are new combinations of students in classes and different levels of enrollment. Even though the outer rhythm stays the same, there are constant variations within it.

I have taught beginning yoga classes for years, and at one point I taught five beginning yoga classes per session. I find it fascinating that no class is ever the same. The students have different amounts of energy and interests, different injuries, and different questions. An explanation of a pose that works well in one class is met with blank stares in the next. These variations have kept the classes new and interesting year after year.

The unknown can be as thrilling and scary as the first day of school, but often, it is unrecognized. When a party becomes just another party, we forget there is always the chance someone could spill red wine on the carpet.

When you stop and consider, there is always some uncertainty in everything in life. You never really know what will happen when you step out of your door each morning, much less what you will find when you enter your office or what your children will tell you when they arrive home from school. Even when you talk with a spouse or an old friend, you are never exactly certain what they are thinking or feeling at that time. From previous experience, there are expectations, but you can never completely predict what will happen.

Now we are beginning a new year. It is a time of new resolutions and new beginnings, a recognized and celebrated step into the unknown. New resolutions create a sense of excitement, accomplishment or worry at first, but after a while these emotions tend to fade as a routine becomes established.

We would have trouble functioning if we lived each day as if it were the first day of school. Constant excitement and nervousness would wear us down. However, life without the unknown would be incredibly dull. The trick is to see the infinite variations within our regular schedules and to realize that the unknown is always there. With the unknown there is always something new.

During my sophomore year of college, all students received membership cards in their mailboxes for the Student Apathy Club. The note that came with the card instructed us to return it within two weeks or we would automatically become a member of the club. I have to admit I thought it was a clever idea and kept the card instead of returning it. A few weeks later the student who had originally sent the cards wrote an article in the campus newspaper declaring the Student Apathy Club the largest organization at the school. Evidently, very few students had bothered to return their cards. I am sure some people kept the cards for their novelty as I did, but most threw them away or ignored them. For the rest of the school year there were occasional notices in the student newspaper congratulating the Student Apathy Club whenever a campus event had an especially low turnout.

Though the Student Apathy Club was humorous, it illustrated the indifference many students felt towards campus events. I was reminded of this indifference after the presidential election in November 2000 when less than 65% of the eligible population voted. One poll reported that one in five of those who did not vote said they did not have the time. When one considers all the countries in the world where free elections do not exist and how hard many Americans such as the suffragettes and those who fought the Jim Crow laws worked to make voting possible for all, this is rather amazing. In light of what a privilege voting is, it is surprising that such a large percentage chooses not to vote.

Though politics can seem far removed from our daily lives, there are often things we know we should do for ourselves and for our families that we let slide. We hear and read almost daily about the benefits of a good diet and regular exercise but, as most of us know, this is hard to follow on a consistent basis. After the winter holidays, the gyms become overcrowded with new members who made resolutions to exercise regularly during the new year. After a month or two, the gyms settle back to their normal pace as peoples’ resolutions fade. I see the same trend in the winter session at HAYC as I talk with new students and students returning after a break of a few months.

Every day is a new day. The sun rose and set long before humans had calendars and though some believe that certain dates are more auspicious than others, the first of January is not the only date to begin anew. It is just a convenient marker. You can choose tomorrow to begin a change in your life; the trick is maintaining your dedication after the excitement of the initial few weeks.

There are thousands of books and videos about weight loss, exercise and making life changes. Different techniques appeal to different people, but a large part of creating a change is setting an intention and then having the discipline to follow through. Discipline can be seen as a harsh, strict word, but it also can be seen as a positive motivating force.

We have signs on the walls of our yoga rooms that say ‘Discipline is Remembering What You Want.’ By this definition, discipline can be the result of keeping our intention in mind when we begin to stray from our chosen path.

So, what is important to you? The first step is setting an intention. It may be to take an hour to vote so that your voice is heard, buying a few more vegetables on your next trip to the grocery store, climbing the steps when you normally would take the elevator, or setting time aside for a home yoga practice. It is all just remembering what you want.

I am in awe of columnists. Each week, and in some cases, several times a week, they write new material for the world to read. Art Buchwald has written columns since 1949, and his columns now appear in the Style section of The Washington Post twice a week. Bob Levey just retired from The Post after writing a column five days a week for over 20 years. A new idea for each column, year after year. I spend the months before each of my quarterly articles waiting for inspiration to strike, and I am not sure I would find such inspiration weekly, much less daily. I suspect columnists look at the world in a slightly different way, seeing and being able to express what is notable or humorous in the world around them.

This newsletter is quite a change from our previous ones: a new design, new colors, and even a new registration form. Our website has changed as well. Our aim is better organization and readability. In rethinking the newsletter and the website, it was interesting to see how the graphic designers, Laura Symanski and Liz Carroll, approached the project. Both have years of experience and were able to offer excellent redesign suggestions. As the office staff and I reviewed the various drafts, we each focused on the areas that we thought could be improved and made clearer, redoing the registration form and rewording some policies where there have been questions. Each of us looked at the new brochure and website from our areas of experience.

In teaching a yoga class, I find some concepts are easy for students to grasp and some are much more challenging. In the upper levels we focus on fine details of poses, from how each part of the foot extends down into the earth to how to tone and stretch various muscles. In almost every class some students grasp the main concept immediately while others need to do a few poses before the idea sinks into their bodies. Interestingly, it is not always the same students who grasp the concept week after week, usually different concepts appeal to different people.

I find the same is true when I travel to weekend workshops with friends. Since the workshops are typically 10 or 12 hours long and quite a lot of information is presented, we compare notes at the end. Often we find that each of us learned something different from the workshop. The differences may be as small as minor details, but frequently we remember entirely different things. Usually we remember what applies to us. One person may remember various philosophical points relative to their life experiences, another how the sequence of poses made attempting a difficult pose easier, and another may have learned a detail that made all the poses easier. Sometimes it seems as if we attended completely different workshops.

If you do yoga long enough, you find some aspect, mental or physical, that is challenging. For someone with tight hamstrings, forward bends can be difficult. Some would see forward bends as poses to be avoided and would not do them except in a class. Others would view them as a challenge and do a few forward bends every day to create more flexibility.

Once we have done a pose a few times, our view of the pose precedes us actually doing it and we enter the pose with our experience partially predetermined. If our previous experience was good or bad, we expect it will be that way again. We tend to bring our expectations, likes, and dislikes to the pose. However, the yoga pose is as it is. There is nothing inherently positive or negative about it.

When we view our world, our past experiences act as a filter. Whether it is seeing an idea for a column in everyday life, bringing an opinion to a project or performing a yoga pose, each of us has our own way of looking at it. In the end, just like a yoga pose the world is as it is. Our filters color our experience.

By studying ourselves and knowing our patterns of thought, we can discover which filters are helpful and which limit us. As we discover filters that are not useful to us, we can replace them with new ways of thought and healthier patterns. Over time, we may begin to view a pose as just a pose, the world as it is, and ourselves as we truly are.

I went to a summer camp for several years as a child. Each year on the first day we toured the camp as the counselors explained all of the activities. On the first night we were always reminded that our time at camp was short and we should not spend our time sitting in our cabins. We should fit in as much as we could because there were so many exciting things to do. I was too young to fully appreciate the concept of time. To me a week seemed like a very long time. I liked most of the activities and kept myself busy, and each year when camp ended, I was surprised at how fast the time really had gone. Every year, the pattern repeated itself. There would be a feeling of endless time, until all of sudden it was time to go home.

Most of us lead very busy lives. Long hours at work, raising children and transporting them to activities, the necessary tasks of daily living like laundry and mowing the grass, and constant access through phone, fax and email all require time and effort. It is easy to get stuck in our daily routine. We tend to forget how quickly time passes until something reminds us. It may be our child entering a new phase of life, a milestone birthday, or realizing all of a sudden that we are almost a quarter of the way through the year. Wasn’t New Year’s just a week or so ago?

I was reminded of this in January with the death of one of our instructors, Beverly Schroeder. We met in the teacher training program and taught together until her health forced her to stop in 2001. When I visited her right after she decided to transfer her care to hospice, she was still coming to terms with her decision. There was acceptance, but she also expressed a feeling of loss as we talked about the people we both knew.

As I left the hospital that day, I was very conscious of the sights and sounds around me: the huge clouds in the sky, the sounds of traffic, and the many hues of the bricks in the walkway. I felt very aware of the world around me and fortunate to be able to see, hear and experience it. This feeling faded as I went back to my normal activities, but when I visited Bev or thought about her, this awareness returned.

Phrases like “life is short” and “stop and smell the flowers” are common, but we rarely pause to think about what they mean or heed their wisdom. With our hectic days, there is so much to do, plan and schedule, and it is hard to just notice the little things as we rush from one task to another.

There is so much to experience, if we only stop to notice. A common meditation technique is to watch the breath, and to focus on various aspects such as how the breath is flowing, its smoothness, and its feel in different places within the body.

As you watch your breath, you begin to realize that each breath is a little different than the previous breath. One inhalation may feel shallow, another exhalation may feel very long. There may be a roughness in the throat, or a difference in expansion of the ribcage. Unless we stop and watch, all of this happens outside of our awareness.

Watching our breath brings us into the present moment. Any stray thoughts tend to take us away from our breath and out of the moment. Just like our breath, there are many things that occur around us that we see and hear, but they do not really pass into our consciousness unless we make an effort to be aware.

When you bring yourself into the present, the world becomes a fascinating place with new combinations of colors, sounds and smells, and a variety of textures. Nothing is ever quite the same from moment to moment. For most of us, this is not an awareness we can maintain, but we can attempt to find time occasionally to stop and become conscious of our surroundings. There is so much to appreciate.

As spring approaches, try to take a moment to enjoy the ever changing sky, the new, bright colors, the trilling of a bird or the scent of a newly opened flower.

A month or so ago I saw the movie Pirates of the Caribbean. I had read a few reviews beforehand and Johnny Depp’s performance in the lead role was uniformly praised. As I watched the movie, I found my eyes drawn to Depp every time he appeared on screen; he completely overshadowed the other characters. Part of his charisma was the way his role was written, but the majority was the dramatic flair Depp brought to his character. As I left the theater, I realized the movie would not have been as much fun without him and that I could not imagine another actor in his role.

You can probably think of other movies where the lead actors made the movie memorable. Depending on your taste, try to imagine Casablanca without Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman or any of the Jim Carrey comedies without Jim Carrey. The movies would not be the same without them.

Just as an actor can make or break a movie, our world can be changed by a single person. I spent a few days asking friends to name a person they thought changed the world in some way. The responses were varied. Some cited political leaders notorious for their violence such as Stalin and Hitler. Others immediately thought of people known for their nonviolence and charity work such as Gandhi, Martin Luther King, and Mother Teresa. Several mentioned science and technology leaders such as Edison, Einstein, and Jonas Salk who created the polio vaccine. Bill Gates was the choice of a few both for his leadership in the computer industry and as the creator of the world’s largest charitable foundation, which is funding international vaccination programs and other health initiatives.

When you consider any field, there are always those who greatly influence it. Lives do not hinge on some areas such as music, literature, or art, but because of people like Mozart, Shakespeare, and Rembrandt our lives are richer.

Most of us can think of a person or two that influenced our lives in some way. It may be a parent, a teacher, or a friend, but in some way they guided us or gave us something to react to that helped us to become who we are today. Most of those who influence us are not famous in any way.

Steve Hartman, a CBS reporter, travels around the country producing stories about the remarkable lives of ordinary people. He throws a dart at a map of the United States, goes to the selected city and chooses a name randomly from the phonebook. He writes his story about the first person he contacts who is willing to participate. His profiles always highlight something about the person that is extraordinary, though in most cases the person did not think there was anything remarkable to be shown.

Since we see our lives unfold a day at a time and we know our faults and weaknesses, we often do not see how remarkable we are and what a difference we make in the lives of others. We may not have produced a vaccine for a major disease, but we may have donated the pint of blood that that was used to save someone’s life. A few words of encouragement to a child or teen about a talent you observe in them may eventually lead them to a career or activity that they enjoy for a lifetime. A smile or a quick conversation may improve a friend’s mood, which then affects those she sees later in the day.

When you sit back and look at your life, your family and friends, career or volunteer work, you realize how many people have passed through your life and touched you. Then take the time to consider how many lives you have touched as well, and recognize and appreciate your own contributions to our world.

When I was about ten, the highlight of my week was watching a television show called Fantasy Island on Saturday nights. Though some themes presented were a little above my level of understanding, I felt very grown-up because the show began at ten o’clock and I was allowed to stay up late. The show took place on a magical tropical island where guests were flown in each week to have their greatest fantasies fulfilled. Usually the stories involved guests finding the man or woman of their dreams.

One episode in particular came back to me a little while ago. It involved a woman who came to the island looking for the perfect man. Somehow she got lost in the jungle and found a man living in a cottage filled with books. He had read them all and knew something about everything. A number of ridiculous situations followed leading up to the climax in which two men with swords broke into the cottage to kidnap the woman. The man who lived in the cottage immediately picked up a sword and began to defend the woman. The woman asked if he had ever used a sword before. The man replied that he had not, but he had read a book about it. After a spectacular fight, he saved the woman.

I thought this was wonderful. I immediately turned to my mother and asked if I could get a book about sword fighting. (I was ten. The romantic aspects of the situation were completely lost on me.) She reminded me that this was television and that sword fighting could not be mastered this way. Skills require years of practice and cannot be learned by just reading a book.

There are many situations that we see or read about that we intellectually understand, but do not truly comprehend until we experience them. Reading a cookbook is nowhere near as delightful as eating the meals it describes. We can read romance novels or watch movies, but until we actually fall in love, we do not completely comprehend the giddy topsy-turvy ride that love is. We live with a constant barrage of images. Movies, television, and magazines all vie for our attention and each try to reach us in some way. It becomes very easy to distance ourselves and to see the images without really thinking about the situations they represent. Though many of the scenes I see on TV and in movies move me, I know I do not fully feel the depth of emotion I would if I were actually in those situations.

Yoga is considered an experiential discipline. You can sit and watch yoga videos or read about the philosophy, but until you actually experience it, you do not fully reap the benefits. Through classes and workshops we learn form, style, techniques and details. Unfortunately, for many their yoga experience ends with the class.

We encourage students to practice at home because only on your own can you discover what makes yoga so wonderful. To hear an instructor describe a pose and try it with the instructor’s focus is one experience, but it is quite another to work with a pose with your own focus. Only through practicing on our own do we appreciate yoga on a personal level. We learn how our body works: we can sense the details on which we need to focus and we can feel the way each pose affects us. As we spend this time by ourselves, experimenting, playing, even becoming frustrated and impatient, we learn about the tendencies of our minds and about ourselves.

With each new experience, we learn and through these experiences we can better comprehend those of others. When we have had a new love, we can smile at another’s joy with remembrance of our own. When we have suffered a tragedy, we can empathize deeply with another’s loss. When we begin to understand our tendencies and thought processes, we recognize and understand those tendencies in others. Through living and experiencing, we gain a greater appreciation and understanding of the world and those around us.

As a programmer, I worked on more than nine major projects at several different companies. Each of these projects, if done well and in a timely fashion, had the potential to lead to additional projects that would increase the company’s revenue and ensure job security for all who worked on the project.

One company I worked for was very small but had won a major contract in a new area of business. The man who had been instrumental in winning the contract had never managed such a sizable project and was nervous that something would go horribly wrong. This made him afraid to delegate, and he micromanaged to the point that no one could add a line to the program without his permission. Several months later, the owners of the company asked for a demonstration and were surprised that nothing substantial had been accomplished. A new manager was quickly assigned, but it was too late. Though we worked many late nights attempting to make up for the time lost, we never recovered and subsequent contracts for the project were given to different companies.

At another company, I was placed on a project on which the managers improvised as the project progressed. There were no consistent guidelines for the 40 programmers and soon everybody was going in their own direction. When the time came to put the parts together, it could not be done. Huge sections of the program had to be rewritten, and after many costly delays, the client gave up and gave the project to another company.

Another computer company I worked for was an hour’s commute from home. I met with the manager once a week so he could check my progress and make sure I was not going in a different direction than everyone else. The other consultants, some of whom lived in distant states, worked in a similar way. Of all of the programs I worked on, this was the only one that was successful. There was enough guidance to keep everyone together, but not so much that it stifled creativity.

When we come to the yoga mat, we have a wide range of approaches to our poses. Some of us tend to be hesitant. We go into poses tentatively and tensely, jaw tight, breathing shallowly, if at all. In the standing poses, our stance tends to be fairly narrow which is more stable, but restricts movement. This protectiveness is common in beginners, but some of us continue to move in this way for years. Others of us throw ourselves into poses, moving quickly and often without much control or deliberation, and in some poses can be dangerous. Alignment is inconsistent, and in standing poses, we may place our feet so wide as to be unstable. The ideal that a yogi or yogini attempts to achieve is to move into poses freely, but with control. We have enough muscle tone to protect the muscles, ligaments, and joints, but not so much that movement is restricted. We have an ease and a balance of tone and movement and of stability and freedom, which is apparent in every pose from the most basic to the most challenging.

Approaches to life are as varied as approaches to yoga poses. In some challenges, we tighten and draw in, which can be protective and feel safe, but too much conservatism can result in tentativeness, overprotectiveness, and in some cases avoidance. At other times our approach can be too loose or free and we act carelessly, rashly, or even recklessly, which can produce unexpected and sometimes undesirable results. In life, as in yoga, when we approach new challenges with just the right mix of control and openness, the results are far better than we ever imagined.