You can meditate in your bedroom with candles, a sound bath, incense, wind chimes, and a fluffy yoga pillow—and that’s a beautiful thing. We should all carve out moments like this. It’s important to experience daily relaxation and the down-regulation of the central nervous system. We spend enough of our lives in fight-or-flight mode.
So do whatever it takes—so long as it's compassionate and doesn’t harm anyone. But as we progress in our practice, we begin to realize something: the calm environment of a yoga studio or bedroom sanctuary is just a flight simulator. It’s not the real test.
The real practice begins the moment life throws something at us. A confrontation with a stranger. An argument with a spouse. Kids who won’t listen. A disappointing business deal. Road rage. Political chaos. These moments will spark the fight-or-flight response automatically—it's hardwired. But how we respond next? That’s the part we control.
Ask yourself: Am I anxious right now?
Then take a breath. Find your way back.
This is the essence of the work—applying the tools of presence and breath when it actually counts. The goal isn’t perfection, but willingness. If we’re willing to try—willing to pause and respond differently—we will get better.
Progress requires experience, and experience is just another word for practice. Every time you practice, you're building awareness and technique. So in real-life situations, when you feel your mood shift, stop and recalibrate. Take a breath. Drink a glass of water. Stretch. Lay in savasana. Go outside. Listen to birds. Clean your room. Have a long list of go-to actions that help calm you down before anxiety hits.
And just as importantly—avoid responses that reinforce destructive patterns. That means not using shopping, sex, sugar, caffeine, tobacco, alcohol, or drama as a release valve. Don’t channel your anxiety into conflict or self-sabotage under the illusion of control or glory.
Awareness takes effort. If we saw clearly what we were doing while we were doing it, we might not do it. But addiction and reactivity often operate below the surface. They're undercurrents in the subconscious, pulling us into deep, dark waters before we realize we’re drifting.
That’s why we train. That’s why we breathe.
So we can recognize the tide—and swim back to shore.