When the Body Says Slow Down: Finding Trust, Awareness, and Balance

April was shaping up to be a very good month.

Professionally, I had just hosted a sold-out Yoga for Bone Health workshop, and there was interest in continuing with a multi-week series. I was also approached by a new studio owner about offering classes for adults 50+, work that feels deeply meaningful to me.

At home, we were preparing for our daughter’s graduation from the University of Oregon in June. Flights, family plans, meals, schedules, all the happy logistics that come with celebrating a milestone. At the same time, my husband and I had decided it might finally be time to downsize, and we put our house on the market.

Life felt full. Busy, yes, but exciting with change. It seemed like so many carefully made plans were beginning to unfold.

And then, within the span of two days, everything shifted.

We accepted an offer on our house with a very quick timeline to move. My routine bloodwork came back with elevated cholesterol and blood sugar numbers that caught me off guard. And then, while simply walking in my neighborhood, I sprained my ankle.

Suddenly, my focus changed from teaching and planning to medical appointments, lab work, and figuring out how to pack boxes while barely able to walk without pain all which felt overwhelming.

What surprised me most was not the injury or even the stressful timing. It was how quickly I disconnected from the very practices I teach.Instead of grounding myself in breath, patience, or perspective, I froze. My mind spun with questions and worry. What now? How long will recovery take? Why is this happening when I’m doing so many things “right”?

I think many of us know this feeling, particularly when it comes to our health. Especially as we age, there is wisdom in learning to pause long enough to listen.

Around that same time, the sale of our house unexpectedly fell through. At first, I felt frustrated, but underneath that frustration was relief. Deep down, I realized I had been ignoring my own intuition. Someday downsizing may make sense, but not now. I had been so focused on what I thought we should do that I stopped listening to what actually felt right.

In a strange way, it mirrored the moment I injured my ankle. I was distracted, looking elsewhere while continuing forward, not noticing the uneven ground beneath me. That realization stayed with me.

Healing has required me to slow down and pay attention, not only to my ankle, but to the balance in my life and health. I’ve been learning more about supporting blood sugar and cholesterol levels in sustainable ways, especially as a vegetarian. Our bodies change as we age, and sometimes the habits that once worked well need to be adjusted with curiosity rather than criticism.

I’ve been swimming when I can, resting more than I prefer, and reminding myself that wellness is not about perfection. It is about awareness, adjustment, and care.

Being away from teaching and from my own familiar practice was difficult for me. But eventually I realized I was not following the very advice I often offer students:

Do what you can.

Not what you used to do.Not what someone else can do.Not what your inner critic demands.

Just what you can do today.

Some days that may look like a full yoga practice. Other days it may simply mean taking a short walk, resting, meditating, or simply choosing kindness toward yourself.

Yoga teaches us to find balance between effort and ease. And balance is not something we achieve once and hold onto forever. In Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer writes, “What I’m looking for, I suppose, is balance, and that is a moving target. Balance is not a passive resting place—it takes work, balancing the giving and the taking, the taking out and the putting in.”

It is a beautiful reminder that balance is something we continually return to

with patience, awareness, and compassion for ourselves as we change.