As I was resting between Series B salutations in downward dog, I noticed the grey stains on my yellow yoga mat which I received a year ago. A large grey stain at the top where my hands were and one at the bottom where my feet were. You’d think I’d be a little sad that my favorite mellow yellow yoga mat had these two large stains, but I’m not. No, not at all. Instead these stains made me think back and reflect. An entire year of practice happened on this very yoga mat.

Those stains are more than dirt and sweat. They are symbols of dedication, tears, release, and strength. That mat and those stains have a story to tell. The story of its owner that came to the mat everyday. The comfy cushion and support it gave both physically and mentally. There is not a day that goes by where my body does not connect with my yoga mat. Every time it does, it imparts more stains, more imprints of the story of my life to be absorbed.

My yoga mat comes with me everywhere. On quick trips, to flights on a plane. It has been that one piece of soft comfort in a place far from home. The stains it has accumulated over the year tell a story not only of a yoga practice, but of a journey. Each day more of that journey gets pressed into the mat. The first thing my body touches as I get out of bed is my unrolled yellow yoga mat. Of course it becomes stained. It has seen it all. From my yoga practice and at-home lifting, to simply lying down flat on my back, relishing its safe rectangle.Read More