For years, I’ve tried and failed to incorporate yoga into my life. Every attempt has felt like a battle between what I know is good for me and what my body and mind rebel against. I would tell myself that this time would be different, that I could finally establish a consistent practice, only to fall off the wagon after a few weeks, if not days. Despite all the setbacks, I keep coming back to the mat. I’ve come to realize that this cycle is not a failure, but a part of my journey—one that I’m starting over again and again, because deep down, I know yoga will eventually work its magic, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.
The beginning of any yoga session for me is always filled with resistance. I dread it. I roll out my mat and feel the weight of reluctance in my bones. My body protests every stretch, every movement, and my mind scrambles to find any excuse to quit. It feels pointless. It feels hard. It doesn’t feel good. I often wonder, "Why am I doing this? Why do I keep coming back to something I so clearly don’t enjoy?" Yet, no matter how much I resist, my intuition keeps telling me that this struggle is exactly what I need.
It's a strange paradox, really. My mind tells me to stop, to avoid the discomfort, but something deeper within me knows that this is what I need to push through. I have learned over time that even when yoga feels like the last thing I want to do, it’s also the very thing that will make me feel better in the long run. This intuitive knowledge, despite the negative experience in the moment, is what keeps me going. There’s an unexplainable trust in the process that I can’t quite rationalize, but I don’t need to. The fact that I don’t want to do it is often the clearest sign that it’s precisely what my mind, body, and soul need.
What doesn’t make sense is that even though the beginning feels uncomfortable and the resistance can be overwhelming, yoga ultimately brings me peace, clarity, and strength—physically and mentally. It stretches not only my body but also my ability to stay with discomfort and uncertainty. The endorphins, the feeling of grounding, the calm that settles in once I’m done—those moments remind me why I’ve failed so many times before. I had to keep trying, and I had to fail to really get that the hard part is part of the process. I have to trust that the rewards come after I push through the initial resistance.
So here I am again, starting over with yoga. Despite the doubt, the discomfort, and the struggle at the beginning of each session, I trust my intuition. I know that I’m on the right path, even if the journey feels confusing or unclear. Yoga may never be easy, but maybe that’s not the point. The point is to show up. The point is to challenge myself. The point is to continue, even when it feels like failure. And in the end, I know I’ll be stronger, more centered, and more in tune with myself because I chose to embrace the discomfort and move through it. Even when it doesn’t make sense, I know it’s good for me.
.jpg){kind=spacer}
