How am I supposed to be a yogi when there are three-day-old oats stuck to my dining room floor and five loads of laundry at the foot of my bed?
How am I supposed to be a yogi when the only ingredients in my cupboards are pasta, cake mix and expired peanut butter?
How can I inspire others when my children watched two movies back-to-back today because I just couldn’t mother for one more minute?
How can I teach self-acceptance when I know I failed today?
But I did spend one minute today alone, breathing, expanding, contracting.
I did spend one minute following each inhale down into my lungs, circulating it deep in my belly and guiding it out.
I did close my eyes and let the air flow in, caress me and leave with purpose.
I did notice the pause in between each breath, and bask in its rich nothingness.
And I did thank myself for being able to breathe.
Then I opened my eyes, folded my laundry, scraped the oats off the floor and snuggled up with my children for the end of their movie.
Author: Emily Scott
Editor: Nicole Cameron
Image: are you my rik?/Flickr