Roughly 86400 seconds, 1440 minutes or 24 hours pass in the course of a day. Let’s say, we spend 8 hours sleeping, and 8 hours working, we’re then left with 8 hours to play. The thing is, after the daily dos of cleaning, cooking, general shaking off of the morning groggy head, and commuting to and from work we’re probably left with a lot less time than we’d like.

Since mid March and perhaps even earlier for some of you, we’ve been spending a lot more time indoors, possibly, with more free time. We’re in the midst of a pandemic, unprecedented times, and yet, perhaps this requirement to stay indoors has allowed some of you to slow down. To recenter and quieten the buzz of a hectic lifestyle. To think about the little things we do and whether they really make a difference in our lives.

I like to wake up early in the morning to enjoy a little stillness before my lockdown family bursts into wakefulness and animate the house. My feet connect with the ground for some ‘quiet’ yoga. Every few days noticing the ability to stretch deeper and longer. Holding my palms to my heart feeling gratitude for a practice that sets the tone for a mindful day. I’ve also found myself seeking solace in nature.

Seeing, feeling, and hearing the city I’ve unexpectedly found myself in during this lockdown. With fewer cars and people there is a stillness to this once busy borough. With a quieter mind, the sounds of the city, the cars, birds, and wind whispering through the trees guide my spacier mind. I pay attention to my breath practicing the oft’ mentioned ujjayi breathing noticing it’s calming effect. The effects of which permeate throughout the day.

Instead of the quick ‘hello’ and ‘see ya in the evening’ before setting off to work, family members sit and have a chat over the first cup of tea. Without the morning rush, conversations are relaxed and even though the topic may very well be the state-of-the-world. The real exchange of thoughts and feelings brings a connectedness, which due to time constraints was not previously possible.

That connectedness is also true for friends and family members across the board. For one not habituated to video calls, never before have I joined so many. Friends and family, though far, aren’t completely missed because the attention once fought for with the countless other commitments of working life, have been temporarily cordoned off allowing for better conversations. I’ve been able to renew and connect with friends far and wide – able to discuss the little and mundane things which fill our days, and long to fill our days.

As the light shifts outside my bedroom window signalling the arrival of the evening – usually a time when we make our way home from work, or way to the gym, restaurant, evening class, cafe – I find myself indoors. Although the skies are blue and the air is warm there is an atmosphere of eerie stillness – no uniform clad children, no to-go coffee cup carriers in sight. A stillness for the times…suddenly filled with the hoots and tweets of birds not usually visitors of these urban parts. Sounds like the birds sing in praise for the little changes.

Amidst all this uncertainty, what are the little things keeping you grounded and what have you been avoiding? Has it been your daily yoga sessions, your meditation practice, or have you liked the many wellness articles suggest picking up new habits in order to have some semblance of normality; like keeping a gratitude journal?

These moments of mindfulness remind us of the importance of the little things, the little steps we take, the daily decision to keep going. Whether you’re sticking to a routine, determined to get 8 hours of sleep, drinking plenty of water, taking your multivitamins, planting seeds, saying hello to your neighbours (within a safe distance), keeping in touch with elderly relatives, nourishing your mind with books and documentaries, these little things all help to keep individuals and communities strengthened. We may not see the immediate results of our personal yoga, meditation, or pranayama practice, but in time, with a consistent effort like the blossoms that bloom in spring, they will flourish, and let’s hope that the benefits of our practice can extend to all beings.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Neelam
– Yoga Teacher and Japanese language enthusiast