September Theme — Embracing transitions

When we think about yoga, most of us picture poses. Downward Dog. Warrior II. Perhaps even a handstand, if that’s part of our practice. But what often gets overlooked are the movements that carry us from one shape to the next—the transitions.

And yet, transitions hold incredible potential and are where so much of the practice actually lives. 

On the mat, it’s easy to hurry. We throw ourselves through Chaturanga just to get to the familiar steadiness of Downward Dog. Or when moving toward a more “impressive” pose, like Headstand, we may forget that how we enter and leave the posture is just as important as holding it. We rush, we use momentum, and we skip over the very moments that could help us grow stronger, steadier, and more present.

Truth be told, transitions are often hard work! In a held pose, the skeleton supports us, muscles switch on in familiar ways, and we can relax a bit once we’ve achieved a sense of arrival. However, during a transition, the body is in a state of flux. Muscles fire differently, the brain is calculating, and balance is shifting. Moving slowly takes strength, coordination, and patience, which is precisely why it’s so valuable.

When we rely only on momentum to carry us through, we miss the opportunity to cultivate integrity. Think of the wobble moving from Side Angle into Warrior II—that’s not wasted time, that’s where strength is built. That’s where awareness sharpens. That’s where practice happens.

Rushing also comes with risk. Misaligned transitions repeated over and over (yes, I’m looking at you, the Chaturanga–Up Dog–Down Dog highway) can add up to strain or injury. But when we slow down, pay attention, and let the breath guide us, transitions become safer, more intentional, and ultimately far more rewarding.

Beyond the pose

Beyond the technical aspects, transitions also hold the power to reshape how we experience our practice as a whole.

When we tune into the in-between moments, the practice stops being about getting somewhere and becomes about being here. The third breath in Half Moon isn’t more important than the step that brings us there. 

I often think of the most inspiring practitioners I’ve seen. What stands out in my memory are not the ones who could balance the longest or bend the deepest, but the ones who move with such presence that every moment  of their practice feels alive. 

Life off the mat

Of course, this lesson doesn’t stop once we roll up the mat.

Life is full of transitions. Some are small and occur at regular intervals, switching gears from work to home, preparing for the seasonal changes that come with moving from summer to autumn. Some huge and life-altering,  like moving to a new city, starting or ending a relationship, welcoming a child, or saying goodbye to someone we love.

And like in yoga, our instinct is often to rush through these in-between places. I know this has certainly been the case in my own life. The messy uncertainty of the in-between can be hard, and it’s natural to want the clarity of arrival instead of the uncertainty of moving toward it. However, these moments, as uncomfortable or uncertain as they may be, are where transformation occurs.

I’ve gone through my share of transitions—new homes, new jobs, complete reinventions of what I thought life would look like. Sometimes I stumbled through them, wanting only to fast-forward. But when I’ve been able to slow down, breathe, and give attention to the process itself, the transition has become less about “getting through” and more about noticing what is unfolding.

Practicing transitions this month

This September, I’ll be guiding classes full of invitations to slow down, notice what comes up, and build the kind of strength that momentum can’t give us.

We’ll pay attention to the breath, to the subtle shifts of weight, to the thoughts that arise when the ego wants the “next pose” already. 

I invite you to approach transitions, both on and off your mat, with curiosity and a willingness to explore some discomfort. Slow them down. Let them be awkward, let them be strong, let them be shaky. Let them teach you.

Because the practice isn’t just about where we land, it’s about how we get there 🙂