In meditation lately, I have been pondering three words. ‘Simply begin again’.

The idea that when I lose my focal point of the meditation (for me, the breath, and yes, I lose focus all the time), is that I just I notice what’s happened, smile upon myself and then simply begin again.

No big deal. It’s good stuff. Over the course of time, I’ve had infinite reminders to simply begin again.

When I was working on my last yoga book, I’d agreed to a tight deadline with the publishers for a massive 70,000 words. But so many things have got in the way. School holidays meant writing slowed to a trickle.

Then my youngest caught chickenpox and things took another swerve as both kids went into extended family quarantine just in case. And right at crunch time – 6 weeks from the due date our au pair flew home to Spain and we found ourselves without childcare for over a month.

It means it was back to basics as I was the sole carer for the kids as well as juggling my teaching and studio hours.

Just when I was due to be polishing and proofreading daily, I remember the book went untouched for five days straight. (Don’t you just love the irony of getting stressed while writing a book which is essentially about how to cope with stress?!)

With the clock ticking, I did know that when I got back to the book, I would just smile upon myself and simply begin again. But here’s something that saved my sanity and took the valve off the pressure cooker of personal expectations.

In younger years, here is what the road to success was meant to look like.

The assumption is that the plan is like a map, that we know the terrain, and we know what’s coming at us. But the unknown sneaks in. As a mum, or for anyone responding to life events, this second graph is what the road felt like sometimes.

This one is a bumpy and uncomfortable road, guaranteed to make you squirm and feel unhappy.

And finally, check out the third graph below. Here is what my truth really is, and when viewed through this lens, it’s life-changing.

This is a much softer line. The whole thing feels less edgy, more flowy, and you never feel like you are on the edge of a precipice.

The curves seem perfectly appropriately feminine for a working mum. It shows me you still get there in the end as it turns a rigid line into a beautiful wandering path.

Because, yes, we were in quarantine with the pox but it meant I got to play with my daughters at home more and it was really, really nice for all of us. I was reminded kids don’t need exciting outings and event-filled days, and that they really just want time with their mum.

Sure, we had no home help but I got to see my youngest at her swimming lessons instead of missing out every week. And yes, the whole family bonded more by chipping in a bit more effort.

In the end, my book got published on time and thanks to the support of Transform’s fantastic stable of teachers, these days I don’t often think of that rocky graph anymore.

Myself and the other teachers couldn’t do what we do without the vital input from you wonderful students. The energy we teachers receive back from our guests in class does really feed us with positive energy. So thank you, thank you, thank you kind people.

Newcomers often remark on the warmth of the Transform community. You form this community and help make everyone feel welcome and we just couldn’t do it all without you.

My wish for you all is that should you falter, may you simply smile and begin again with grace and ease.

If you need any help choosing a lifestyle plan that suits your needs or have any questions about what Transform Yoga has to offer your mind, body and soul, please feel free to contact us anytime by clicking this link.