practices
My life is full of practices.
As in: rituals and routines to repeat over and over. Commitments made. Intended goals and areas of love and focus.
As in: not perfect. Not done yet. Still practicing. Showing up.
As in: dedication to hold true to what I value.
As in: writing practice, lifting practice, community practice, home practice, work practice.
An Instagram friend messaged me today about being inspired by my “powerlifting practice,” and I thought, “I love that!” At first, the phrasing hit me funny because I’ve never thought about my lifting as a practice. I’ve never put those words, with that connotation of ritualistic, patient, high-level awareness and dedication, to my lifting. After I thought about it for a second, it really landed. It felt just right. It IS a practice! One of my favorite, most life-sustaining practices, in fact. And I just love the deeper meaning and almost spiritual implication to framing it as such.
My life is full of practices, and areas of deep importance to me, areas I vow to keep returning to.
What are the things I hold most dear, that I must come back to, no matter where I land? What will I continue to cultivate and prioritize?
What am I practicing?
Sometimes, each practice is thriving — sometimes they take turns; often it feels like they can’t all be in perfect, thriving alignment at once — and sometimes I feel like some are getting left behind. Sometimes I “fall off the wagon,” for lack of a better term.
I think, in a practice, it works far better if your methods are repeated at regular intervals. It’s much harder to sustain a writing practice or a powerlifting practice if it is only done rarely, sparsely, here and there, as you have time for it. It’s far easier to put in the hard work daily, even if for a short time. Keep showing up. The more often and familiar the practice feels, the more you can make yourself at home within it, and the more plentiful rewards will come out of it.
Some of my practices — especially writing and music! — have been extremely sparse or even nearly nonexistent in the past couple months. This is my reminder to myself that my life is full of practices, and I want it to be. I love my practices.
This is a reminder that our practices keep us afloat. They are the tiny, bold, transformative, far-travelling lifeboats that can take us anywhere we want to go. If only we hold our True North. If only we keep showing up at our agreed upon regular intervals. If only we honor our vows and return time and time again.
The practice is sacred. The practice is deep, good work.
