Slowing Down Is My Yoga Practice Right Now

There is something a little ironic about a yoga studio owner writing a blog post about stress.

Trust me, I see it too.

People often assume that because I own a yoga studio and have practiced yoga for over twenty years, I must spend my days floating around in a state of perfect peace. The reality is a little less glamorous.

I have a full time job. I own Yoga on Beacon. I teach classes. I manage a team of incredible instructors. I'm trying to be a good wife, a good friend, a present daughter and granddaughter. I want to make time for hobbies, travel, reading, movement, and the people I love.

Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself I could do all of it.

Back in May, my body let me know otherwise.

My left eye started twitching nonstop. I wasn't sleeping well. My nervous system felt completely fried. I was exhausted but somehow couldn't relax. Stress had quietly taken over every corner of my life.

One thing I noticed that surprised me was how addicted I had become to input.

Silence felt uncomfortable.

If I was driving, I needed a podcast.

If I was cleaning, I needed music.

If I was cooking, I needed YouTube.

If I sat down for five minutes, I instinctively reached for my phone.

It felt like I constantly needed something talking to me, entertaining me, teaching me, or demanding my attention.

The irony is that yoga teaches us to become more comfortable with stillness, yet I had unknowingly become afraid of it.

In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali defines yoga with one of the most famous verses:

"Yoga is the calming of the fluctuations of the mind."

Not eliminating our thoughts.

Not becoming someone who never experiences stress.

Simply learning to quiet the constant mental noise.

I realized my mind hadn't had a quiet moment in months.

Owning a yoga studio doesn't exempt you from business problems. Payroll still has to happen. Teachers need support. Classes need marketing. Toilets break. Software glitches. Rent is due. Social media always wants another post. There is always another email waiting.

The work is meaningful.

It is also still work.

This summer I've made a commitment with my therapist to intentionally slow down.

Not because I'm burned out beyond repair.

Because I don't want to get there.

One of the biggest changes my husband and I made sounds incredibly small.

We stopped watching TV.

Mostly.

We'll absolutely still watch the NBA Finals, the World Cup, the WNBA Commissioner's Cup, and the US Open. We're not giving up sports.

But the nightly Netflix routine has been replaced with things that leave us feeling more connected instead of more distracted.

We're reading.

Working on puzzles.

Playing music.

Kayaking.

Playing tennis.

Taking walks.

Sitting outside on our rooftop deck with coffee.

Watching the Seattle sunshine instead of another episode autoplaying.

I've started journaling again in the mornings before opening my laptop.

I'm walking more.

Sleeping better.

My concentration at work has improved.

I feel less scattered.

It's amazing how much mental space comes back when you stop filling every empty moment.

The harder practice for me has been stepping away from the studio.

As an owner, it's easy to believe everything depends on you.

That if you don't answer every message immediately, post every day, or teach every class, somehow everything will fall apart.

Last week I intentionally didn't post much on social media.

I stepped away from TikTok.

I canceled my own classes.

I let myself rest.

More importantly, I trusted the systems we've built and the instructors I've hired.

And guess what?

Yoga on Beacon kept going.

Students still practiced.

Teachers still showed up.

Community still happened.

That was probably the biggest lesson of all.

The Bhagavad Gita reminds us that we are entitled to our actions but not attached to the results. We are asked to do our work with care and integrity, then loosen our grip on control.

That has become my practice.

Not doing less because I'm lazy.

Doing less because I want to be fully present for the things that actually matter.

Sometimes we think yoga is mastering Crow Pose or finally touching our toes.

Sometimes yoga is putting your phone down.

Closing your laptop.

Taking a walk without headphones.

Reading a book instead of opening another app.

Trusting your team.

Canceling a class when your body needs rest.

Sitting on your porch with a cup of coffee while the city slowly wakes up.

For me, this season has been a reminder that yoga isn't just what happens on the mat for sixty minutes.

It's how we choose to live the other twenty three hours of the day.

I'm still figuring it out.

I'm still catching myself reaching for my phone.

I'm still learning how to leave work at work.

I'm still reminding myself that rest is productive too.

But I think that's the beauty of yoga.

It's called a practice for a reason.

We're never really finished.

We're simply invited, over and over again, to come back to our breath, to ourselves, and to what matters most.