The practice is not a stand alone experience. There’s not the Rachael who does yoga, the Rachael who teaches, the Rachael who writes, the Play School Rachael, the Mum Rachael, the friend Rachael. It’s the same me driving my car, parking at Westfield, doing school pick up, writing a play, laughing with G, having a vino with a friend, Kanye-ing up the dance floor on a Friday night (oh no wait- that was a decade or two ago).
Of course all these parts of life require different things from us. Or as my teacher Manorama D’Alvia says- “you play by the rules where the rules are played.”
But there’s something underneath the experience of being “you” that is not subject to change.
And that’s what the practice reveals. If we let it.
Because understanding who you really are doesn’t necessarily mean living in a cave drinking green smoothies. (There’s no nutri-bullets inside caves in the Himalayas, FYI.) It doesn’t mean quitting your job, packing up your life, leaving your husband and kids and EatPrayLoving your way through India. (Though I do frequently fantasize momentarily about such things). It doesn’t require buying expensive yoga clothing, or chanting, or talking about chakras being out of balance and moon cycles over overpriced turmeric lattes. (Guilty of all the above, your honour.)
It requires you to get on your mat. Do your practice.
And let that experience inform how you move through the costume changes of your life.