One Pose a Day

Building a Bridge Back to Yourself

There are seasons when my yoga practice feels effortless—when I roll out my mat every morning, light a candle, and move like I’ve never forgotten what it means to truly do yoga.

And then there are the other seasons.

The ones where life feels heavy. The ones where even sitting still feels like too much.

I used to beat myself up for that. For not “keeping up.” For letting my practice slip between the cracks of exhaustion and real life. But over time, I realized something softer, something truer: practice isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence.

When Practice Feels Far Away

Some weeks, my energy is wild and open. I move through strong Hatha flows that make me feel alive, grounded, powerful. Other weeks, I barely make it to the mat—but I take one long breath before bed. One minute to notice my body. One moment of stillness that reminds me I’m here.

And somehow, that’s enough.

Because the nervous system doesn’t need perfection. It needs consistency. It needs gentle reminders that you are safe, that you can slow down, that your body and mind can work together instead of against each other.

The Power of One Pose

When I started focusing on one pose a day, everything shifted.

Some days it was Child’s Pose, forehead pressed to the mat, just breathing through the chaos.

Other days it was Mountain Pose, standing tall, feeling my feet root down when everything else felt unstable.

Sometimes it was Legs-Up-the-Wall, when I needed to surrender and let gravity hold me.

It didn’t matter how much time I had—what mattered was that I showed up. That I gave myself one quiet minute to breathe, to feel, to connect.

Over time, those moments started to stack.

One pose turned into two. One minute of breathwork turned into five. One exhale at a time, my body began to trust me again. My mind began to settle. My nervous system softened.

A Nervous System That Feels Safe Again

It’s easy to think yoga is about flexibility or strength, but the truth is, it’s about the relationship you have with yourself.

Some days that relationship will feel strong and effortless. Other days, it will feel distant. But even the smallest effort—a stretch, a breath, a moment of awareness—is a way of saying: I’m still here.

Your practice will look different depending on what you’re going through.

Grief, burnout, transition, joy—they all shape how you show up. And that’s okay. Yoga isn’t something to master; it’s something to return to, over and over again, in whatever way you can.

Showing Up, Even When It’s Small

So if you only have one minute today, take it.

Breathe in deeply. Exhale slowly.

Feel what it’s like to be in your body right now, without judgment.

That one breath might not seem like much—but it’s a bridge.

It’s a thread that connects you back to your center, back to the version of you that’s been waiting to feel safe, to rest, to belong again.

You don’t need to do everything. You just need to begin—one pose, one breath, one heartbeat at a time.