
As I resume a regular routine of practice- the autumn always seems the season where I am most prone to structure- it occurred to me this morning that, regardless the disorganization or mess surrounding me, on the mat, if I allow, it all seems to dissolve into the atmosphere.
Not having an appropriate space, or an appropriately neat and tidied space, has always provided me with a handy dandy excuse to sit around watching Oprah with a bag of Miss Vickies put off practice, often delaying it until the day just gets away from me and then it’s time for bed and I collapse into the arms of JayLenoDavidLettermanConanOBrianDailyShow a good book and off into dream land with noble yogic intentions for the next day, where FOR SURE I will tidycleanvacuumredecoraterenovate the perfect space to best enjoy my practice.

Would I be in danger of being stoned… or possibly flayed… right here on my yoga mat if I admitted I don’t like 

Who better to inspire our little ones? 

I will be the first to admit that I’m a newbie in the practice of meditation. During the course of my early morning practice, in addition to dodging frantically my monkey mind, one of the techniques I try to employ is that of focusing on my ‘third eye’.
