Yoga on the Trail

This summer, at age 54, I’ve embarked on a new(er) past-time, hiking half (240 miles) of the Colorado Trail, in 2-4 day installments.  

Superficially, the hike may seem distinct from formal yoga practice. But, as I sometimes share with students: “you can take yoga with you anywhere you breathe, think or move.”

Breath regulation synchronized with steps, nasal breathing, intentionally setting one’s gaze, or unwinding with a few poses after 16 miles of hiking are some possible applications.

And sometimes the deeper ethos of yogic teachings are illustrated by the land itself. One connects to the spirit rather than route methodologies.

After traversing a particularly difficult  pass, I vividly noticed all the upright, green trees; surrounded by an equal number of brown, horizontal ones. 

Half the forest alive and half of it deceased.

Of course the deceased trees then nourish the soil and enter the bodies of new emergent trees. And so the cycle goes, death is simply an aspect of the greater wheel of life and not a definitive ending.

In other words, death occurs within the greater context of life. 

Life is primary. 

The forest offered no philosophy that day, only a quiet reminder: what appears as an ending is often participation in a larger continuity. Seen this way, practice becomes less about forcing change and more about learning to align with the rhythms that have always sustained us.