Wendy Fontaine

I like to start my yoga practice by thinking of an intention. Maybe it’s something I’m grateful for. Or maybe it’s the reason I came to my mat that day. But more often than not, it’s usually just a word. A focal point. A place to put my mind when it wanders.
This morning, three words popped into my head. The first was “listen.” The second was “safe.” The third was “here.”
I thought of listen, I think, because it’s a rainy day here in Los Angeles. The roads are flooding. Traffic is snarled. My daughter probably got soaked on her walk to school. It hardly ever rains here in LA, but it has rained twice in the last week alone. I love this weather. I like to wear my shiny yellow rain boots and turn up the heat, do some baking and drink my coffee extra slow. Today, my yoga mind wanted me to listen to the rain. To enjoy the way it sounds when it hits the roof, when it comes down in sheets, when cars splash through giant puddles outside the studio.
The second word is something I am always reminding myself that I am. You are safe. Your family is safe. Everyone is safe. The reason for that is anxiety. I have anxiety. I’m always worried that something bad will happen – to me, to my daughter or my husband. To someone that I love. My worried mind is forever telling my heart that everything is okay.
The third word is a reminder, I think, to be where I am. To be fully present. It’s the holidays and the end of the semester. There are many things to do, people to care for. I’m also writing a book, which feels overwhelming sometimes. I’m reading through the manuscript, looking for places to revise, and the pages are never-ending. My yoga mind is telling me to be here now, to accept where things are at and appreciate their incompleteness. To have faith that I will get there, that things will get done in their own time.
Listen. Safe. Here.