It has been the strangest few weeks that I can remember in my lifetime. The weather here in Ireland is turning from Winter to Spring. The mornings are lovely and bright, and there’s that ‘grand stretch’ in the evenings. Under normal circumstances, we’d be rejoicing at the good weather and looking forward to the Summer.

But everything has been put on hold; all planning of Summer holidays; all social occasions; all education. Everything feels like it has entered a weird state of stasis; a standstill almost. And yet, something ominous is just over our shoulder. We have an idea of what it is, but there are more unknowns than there are knowns.

You know that feeling when you put your hand under a really hot tap? There’s a micro-second where we feel nothing; a tiny moment before the signal gets from our hand to the pain receptors in our brain; that one moment of blissful ignorance before we realise that we’ve burned our hand. We have a feeling that something bad has happened but we haven’t quite paid the price yet. And we don’t yet know how bad it’s going to feel. It happens so fast (at the speed of thought) that usually our hand has pulled away from the water before we even feel the pain.

I feel like the whole of Ireland, and most of the rest of the world, is experiencing that micro-moment, slowed-down and stretched out over the space of weeks. We don’t know how bad this crisis is really going to be in the end, but we have that ominous feeling that there is going to be a lot of pain before it’s all over.

This state of ‘not-knowing’ can have the biggest impact on or thoughts, our fears, and our stress-levels. Like a wasp just over your shoulder. You don’t know yet if you’ll be stung and you can’t quite see it coming. But you know it’s there.

If you’re like me you’ll have been experiencing a certain level of anxiety about the impending impact this virus may have on you, your family, your friends, your community, and even your financial security. And these are all valid worries.

Some of the narrative coming from the yoga community has been decidedly unhelpful. The idea that, because we do yoga, we should be always positive, always relaxed, never worried or stressed, and equanimous in all situations is utter nonsense. The fact that we practise yoga means, for many of us, we’ve recognised that sometimes life is hard; that we need a system to get through difficult times; one which can help us to reconnect with our deeper selves where all those worries can maybe begin to fade.

But none of us are there yet. If we were we wouldn’t need to practice anymore.

It’s normal to feel worried. It’s normal to be stressed. It’s normal to need help.

And it’s at times like this when we might start to realise just how important things like yoga, movement, mindfulness, social-connection, breath-work, and meditation really are. We need those things more than ever.

The proliferation of yoga teachers using online platforms to continue to connect with their tribe has been really heartening, and it has been so useful for many yoga students (and teachers) around the world. If we’d experienced this crisis 15 years ago the technology would never have been able to keep up. We’re lucky we can still connect with each other now.

As you may know, we’ve been running a full schedule of led classes on Zoom (a video conferencing platform). It has proven to be a much nicer experience than I had thought it would be. Not quite as connected as all being together in the shala, but I’m still getting that nice warm glow that comes from sharing ashtanga yoga together. You can join the classes here.