84 days. The current tally of my ongoing daily yoga streak. I may just have to take a day off. Or stop counting. To avoid turning this into some type of personal competition which defeats the purpose of why I committed to a regular practice in the first place. I have a habit of overdoing things like that. Something good doesn’t seem like it’s enough unless I make it excessive. One of the unconscious strategies that I use to distract myself from this underlying torment. Yoga seems to be the compassionate antidote for my unrestrained striving. Simply showing up. Day after day. Gently flowing from where I am in this moment. Nothing forced. No keeping score. No tracking numbers. No values to indicate progress or forward movement. Simply practicing breath-coordinated mindful movement to guide me to feeling more deeply. In complete harmony with life itself. Working with what my body can give me on this day which is always enough. Yoga doesn’t end when I get off the mat. So much to teach me about myself. So much to teach me about this life. Noticing how my yoga practice gently overflows into my bike practice. Old habits of setting ride objectives or following a written program replaced by a healthier organic approach. Asking myself each and every time I swing my leg over my bike what I have to give today. What do my body and soul need here and now. My brain seems to have a mind of its own. Especially since hitting my head. It calls the shots. Reminding me over and over again that all I can do is play by its own unpredictable rules. There is this bridge inside of me that yoga has started building. A connection. From doing to being. Mindfully guiding me towards what we all really need most. Healing.