There’s a certain irony in being a yoga teacher and not wanting to practice yoga.
And yet, it happens. Often enough that I no longer see it as a failure.

Some days, my body just feels too tired, or my mind is noisy, or I simply don’t want to.

And here’s the thing: I don’t fight that anymore.
I listen to it.

In a world that constantly tells us to “show up” and “be consistent” and “keep pushing,” there’s a quiet kind of rebellion in not doing what you said you would, and noticing what that brings up. For me, not practicing doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It means something in me needs something else.

And over time, I’ve come to understand that there’s more than one way to stay connected to myself. Here are a few:

Sometimes I simply… don’t.

No guilt. No catch-up session later.
I let myself lie on the floor with a blanket and not move. I watch clouds or scroll a bit.
I give myself permission to skip the breathwork, the asana, the effort.

This kind of not-doing is a practice in itself — especially when your nervous system is in a place of depletion. Sometimes, the most skillful thing we can do is nothing at all.

Sometimes I just do one small thing.

One cat-cow. A long exhale. Rolling out the mat but sitting on it with a cup of tea.
When practice feels like too much, I shrink it. I make it so small it can slip through the cracks of resistance.

Strangely, this often opens the door. Honestly, not always, but often.

Sometimes I reframe what practice even means.

Is sitting in silence while I knit practice? Yes.
Is chopping vegetables in rhythm with my breath practice? Also yes.
I no longer think of yoga as something that happens only on a mat.
I think of it as relationship. And relationships need spaciousness.

So what’s the point of all this?

I’m writing this because I know I’m not the only one who sometimes loses the thread.
And I want you to know that your practice doesn’t need to look the same every day. It doesn’t even need to look like “practice” at all.

It just needs to be real. Honest. Something you can meet as you are.

And if today that means doing nothing… may that nothing be full of grace.

Here is a reflection prompt for you:

What does practice look like when I take the pressure off?

And as always: Thanks for reading! I’ll keep writing here and hope you’ll find something in it that resonates with you.

Warmly, Leo