As we grow older, we replace “homework” with “work from home” and “self worth” with “net worth”. Our ability to stay connected has not only brought the world to our fingertips, but also our office emails and files into our bedrooms, blurring the line between work and life. This phenomenon is perhaps inevitable for we define ourselves by the work that we do.

Twenty four hours in a day, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty in a year (add twenty four to that, thank you leap year) and we have everywhere to be but nowhere to truly go. We run from pillar to post in the quest for something meaningful, something that will define our legacy, that something that will come someday. 

But what about today?

From the moment we come into this world, wailing and crying as eight pound creatures bundled in infinite charm, we experience the feeling of home in the company of one extraordinary individual. Her eyes are your mirror, reflecting an abundance of warmth in an uncertain world. 

What if I told you that outside of academia, you have the ability to add through subtraction? No, I’m certainly not John Nash and nor do I have a revolutionary mathematical equation but what I am certain of is your ability to do so. 

I tiptoed gingerly across the cold wooden floor, unraveled my mat and quietly placed two rectangular props or “blocks”, as I would later learn to call them, by the edges of my mat. What happened during the course of that one hour and over the next two years of my biweekly yoga practice has caused a directional shift in my outlook toward life. 

If your childhood was anything like mine, chances are that one or both parents had to coax you into hitting the sack with a bedtime story or a lullaby. As we continue to grow, we perceive the concept of a “bedtime” as a punitive curfew devised for little children. Why, pray tell, would any adult subject oneself to a designated bedtime?

Can you imagine a house without a mirror? Of all the things emblematic of a “home”: laughter, joy, people, pictures, etc., not once do we identify the mirror as an integral component. Yet, it’s the one place, among others, where we seek our life’s truth. 

Standing out in a crowd (pun intended) was never something I struggled with. Truth be told, I always perceived the spotlight as a platform to showcase my abilities. From playing the lead in school plays to performing in innumerable chorus concerts, sorry mom and dad (there’s only so many times one can sing Rockin’ Robin before it gets old), to being asked “wow, you’re incredibly tall, do you play basketball?”, I truly enjoyed it all. To those wondering if I was skilled at basketball, I hate to disappoint but I was downright awful. 

Yeah.