There’s a practice I return to whenever I can’t tell what I actually want. I begin by taking a few slow breaths, allowing my mind to quiet and my body to relax. Then, bringing my attention fully into my body, I ask: What does a “yes!” feel like? I stay quiet and notice what sensations arise. Maybe there’s a gentle opening through my chest, a sense of ease, or a little more room for my breath. Maybe I feel myself subtly leaning toward something.
Then I take another breath and ask: What does a “no!” feel like? Again, I pay attention. There might be tightness, heaviness, a feeling of pulling away, or something else entirely. Whatever shows up, I simply notice it. Only after I’ve taken the time to feel both responses do I ask the question I’m actually struggling with.
This practice has become incredibly helpful for me because my mind can make a convincing argument for almost anything. I can analyze, rationalize, make a pros-and-cons list, talk myself into something, and then five minutes later talk myself right back out of it.
The body is different. I don’t mean that every sensation is an absolute truth that needs to be acted on; fear lives in the body too, as does old conditioning, anxiety, exhaustion, and stress. But the body is always giving us information, and the practice is learning how to listen.
In yoga, we’re practicing this constantly, even if we don’t always realize it. The mind wanders, we notice, and we come back to the breath. We lose our connection to what we’re doing, notice that we’ve drifted, and return. We push a little too hard in a posture and something inside says, “enough,” or we pause long enough to realize there is actually more space available than we thought. That process of noticing and returning may seem like the boring part of practice, but I actually think it may be one of the most important parts.
The return is the rep.
Every time we notice that we’ve drifted and gently bring ourselves back, we’re strengthening our ability to pay attention. Eventually, that attention begins to follow us off the mat, and we start to recognize the difference between the voice that asks, “What will everyone think?” and the quieter voice underneath it; between “I should” and “I want to”; between the nerves that arise because something is new and the deeper feeling that tells us something simply isn’t right for us.
There’s actually a name for our ability to sense what is happening inside the body: interoception. It includes noticing things like our heartbeat, breath, tension, hunger, temperature, and all the other internal sensations we experience throughout the day. Long before I knew the word, though, yoga was teaching me how to practice it: to feel first, to listen, and to notice without immediately needing to react.
I think that last part matters. We live in a world that encourages an immediate response to almost everything: answer the text, make the decision, have an opinion, figure out what comes next. But you don’t have to act on everything you hear. Sometimes the first step is simply becoming quiet enough to hear it.
So this week, if there’s something you’ve been going back and forth about, try getting out of your head for a few minutes. Take a few breaths and feel your feet on the ground. Ask your body what a “yes” feels like and then ask what a “no” feels like. Come back to center, and only then ask your question.
You don’t have to force an answer, and you don’t even have to do anything with what comes up yet. Just listen. The more we practice listening, the easier it becomes to recognize the signal beneath all the noise– and that, to me, is one of the greatest gifts of yoga.
Come practice with us at Ocean Bliss this week. The mat is a beautiful place to begin learning how to hear yourself again. Follow @jenkelleherwellness and @ocean_blissyoga | Phone: 917-318-1168
