Contemplative movement: What does it mean to be strong?

Can you be strong without hardening?
Can you be serious without tightening?
How does it feel to be joyful in your effort?
What happens when you slow down to notice?
When things don't go as planned, what then?


In my own practice, and in the ways I invite people to move and meditate with me, I find taking a contemplative approach is helpful - in watching and catching the habits of the mind to wander, in making it matter (whatever "it" is and that means), by way of encouraging an intentional experience, rather than one that might be habitual, forceful, punitive or thoughtless and then frustratingly unsatisfying.

Thinking is not a problem per se. Thoughts are part of the process. The mind is not, or rather does not have to be a hostile place to be. Likewise, the body is neither good nor bad at something - it's only certain notions that we may have absorbed into our mental-physical loops that can make it feel that way.

All of which is to say that in my humble felt and shared experience, Yoga and mindfulness can be a profoundly beneficial way to relate to oneself honestly and sanely, to untie oneself from the mental and physical habits that harm rather than heal the dichotomies that become embedded in our inner circuitry.

How does it feel to be in your body, really, aside from what you think or have been led to believe it should feel or look like? My answer today: tired, a little agitated, probably from fighting the tiredness, grateful nonetheless, capable and stronger than my thoughts might have me believe. I'm continually learning to be okay with what and how I find myself, aside from external constructs. How about you?