I never understood how to be more present. Until this happened.

When I first started yoga, I didn’t care about teachers saying, “Hey yogis, blah, blah, blah.” These three minutes of inspiration, philosophies, and bits of wisdom were always going to play out like a cliché scene in a bad episode of the series. Seinfeld. Yes, there are bad episodes of Seinfeld-The first season was not good. Since I was using yoga instead of running, I eagerly immersed myself in the spiritual meditations, eager to get to the exercise part of the practice. I kept thinking, What is this shit?

I tried different teachers. They all had an opening monologue.

When will they stop talking!? I wondered.

After about ten classes, I accepted that I was “in the room” and that the class wasn’t going to change simply because my inner voice was chanting, “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.” One day, while sitting at a fax from A Comfortable positionI was busy cataloging the active injustices in my life. The breeze lifted the almost weightless, gauze-like purple curtain, giving a glimpse of the lush tranquility of Amagansett Square. A little girl, so young that she still sways as she runs, chasing a puppy. Yes puppy! Was I living inside a Hallmark card designed for grandma? I responded to the sarcasm: Why couldn’t something this cute, this simple, this fun happen in real life?

I started searching my memory bank: Was there a moment like this in my childhood? Have my wobbly little me ever chased a puppy through the vibrant greenery of a late spring day? Maybe not. My father never trusted dogs, he was afraid of them. He could scream at his children knowing with certainty that they would tremble; He was always afraid that a dog would bite him.

I learned early on to take my joy where I could find it — in my case, beloved sweaters. My mind lingered, transfixed by that little girl stalking giggling into her children’s laboratory, as if someone had eased their foot on the brakes of my thought processor. By chance, I heard softly spoken directions floating across the room.

Me (silently, to myself): Shut up and listen.

Something about squirrels in my head? Wait, was that an unexpected burst of significance? My mind dropped. A twinge of curiosity. Finally I was “in the room”. I was “present”. settle. Was I on my way to some kind of enlightenment?

A soft wave of laughter spread across the room – a sign of collective recognition of the truth? It piqued my curiosity. Everyone seems to glow a little. What did I miss?

In the next chapter, I showed up with my ear. I embraced active listening. I came with the expectation of being lifted up by the power of magical and mystical visions. If there was gold for me in the opening monologue, that gold would be mine. My hands were in prayer position and I was ready to get rich quick.

Some of what I heard is starting to resonate. It was the shit I needed to hear. I was learning a new language, not to communicate with others, but as a way to communicate with myself. A way of being in the world. worldwide.

The physical benefits of yoga are different from the benefits of running six miles. Yoga stretched my body. I changed my situation; And build strength and endurance balance. However, it was the little “spiritual bits” that helped shape who I became. They strengthened equally important emotional muscles: patience, calm, acceptance, and tolerance trust. There is less noise in my head, so I am more present in my life. I’m more comfortable with uncertainty.

Reader, did you just close your eyes? This is good.

Just a few years ago, if you told me you’dMore present in your life“, I had heard my eyeballs hit the back of my head. I don’t roll my eyes anymore. It doesn’t make me a better person, but it makes me a happier person. I’m a lot calmer than my pre-yoga days. We’ve all heard the old saying, “If I knew what I know now…” Well, this “shit” I learned in yoga is exactly the thing I wish I’d known then.

So stay with me. Shut up and listen. Not for me, but for what I heard and learned along the way.

This article is adapted from What I Heard in Yoga: What I Learned at Downward Dog By Michael J. Norton. Copyright 2026. Used with permission of Post Hill Press.