sensing savoring

Another yoga training weekend complete. I have to be honest—this program’s focus on mindful self-compassion has been a tough ride for me. Sitting with kindness toward myself doesn’t come naturally. Today’s practice was a body scan, offering appreciation and compassion to each part of ourselves, followed by a walking meditation where we were encouraged to pause and sit with the moments we notice something beautiful.

This kind of practice is challenging for me. My instinct is to keep moving, always reaching for the next thing before I’ve fully honored the moment I’m in. So, when it came time for my 30 minutes of mindful noticing, I did what any expert avoider of stillness might do—I started with a few chores.

As I watered my tomatoes, I caught sight of a rainbow forming in the light refracting through the droplets. Something in me softened, and instead of rushing past it, I let my gaze linger. My view widened. I noticed the birds needed fresh water in their bath. It’s brutally hot today—I couldn’t let them go without. So, I shifted my attention outward. More rainbows. More light.

When I turned off the hose, I let my hand rest beneath the spigot, catching the last few trickling drops, watching how they found their way down my fingertips before falling to the earth. I stayed there, feeling the coolness of the water, letting the moment unfold without forcing an end to it.

The rest of my practice led me to my hammock, a place I love but hadn’t gifted myself time in for far too long. So, I laid there. No agenda. Just the swing of the breeze and the weight of my body held by the fabric.

There’s something about that small act that struck me. Maybe because it was a moment just for me, one I allowed myself to fully take in. Maybe because it was a reminder that self-compassion isn’t just a concept—it’s a practice, a choice to stay with ourselves in the moment, just as we are.

More rainbows. More light. More noticing.