Yoga philosophy has a word for the patterns we create in our lives: samskaras. A samskara is basically a groove we create in the mind through repetition. The more often we think something, do something, or react a certain way, the deeper that groove becomes.

I like to think about it as walking through a field of tall grass. The first time you cross the field, you have to pay attention to where you’re going. The next time, you follow roughly the same route and press the grass down a little more. Keep walking that way every day and eventually you’ve made a path.

Pretty soon, you don’t even think about which way to go. Your feet automatically follow the trail because it’s familiar and easy.

Our minds work the same way.

We do so many things without really thinking about them. Have you ever driven somewhere you’ve been a hundred times, pulled into the parking lot, and realized you barely remember the drive?  Your brain knew the path, so it took over.

We brush our teeth the same way, reach for our phones without thinking, follow the same morning routine, sit in the same spot, and take the same route to work. These habits make our lives easier. Imagine having to consciously think through every tiny thing you do all day. We would be exhausted before breakfast.

But samskaras aren’t only about the things we do. We also create grooves in the way we think, feel, and react.

Maybe when life gets stressful, your shoulders immediately creep up toward your ears. Maybe you hold your breath. Maybe you get irritated. Maybe your mind instantly starts thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. The reaction can happen so quickly that we don’t even realize there was a moment when we could have responded differently.

We create grooves with the stories we tell ourselves, too. I can’t do that. I’m not good at this. I don’t have enough time. I’m too old. I’m not flexible. What if I fail? Think something often enough and it starts to feel less like a thought and more like a fact.

We’ve walked some of these paths so many times that we don’t even realize we’re choosing them anymore.

Of course, not all samskaras are negative. We have some pretty great grooves, too. Maybe you’ve practiced taking a deep breath when you’re overwhelmed. Maybe gratitude comes naturally to you. Maybe you have learned to pause before reacting. Maybe walking through the doors at Sunshine and rolling out your mat has become one of those familiar paths.

Your body knows what happens next. You breathe, move, sweat, wobble, laugh, probably wonder why the hell I’m making you hold something so long, and eventually you settle into Savasana. You’ve practiced it enough that your body recognizes, I’m here. This is my time.

That’s a samskara, too.

The interesting thing is that yoga doesn’t ask us to judge all these patterns or suddenly get rid of them.

Yoga asks us to become aware of them.

That’s where the practice gets really good.

Your yoga mat gives you a place to watch yourself. What happens when something gets hard? What happens when you wobble out of a balance? What happens when the person next to you can do something you can’t? What happens when I ask you to stay somewhere three breaths longer than you want to?

Do you immediately get frustrated? Do you hold your breath? Does your mind say, I can’t do this? Do you compare yourself to the person next to you? Or can you breathe, laugh, adjust, and try again?

Those reactions probably aren’t exclusive to your yoga practice. The way we respond to discomfort on the mat can tell us quite a bit about how we respond to discomfort when we walk out the door.

And this is where another piece of yoga philosophy comes in: abhyasa — practice.

If repetition helped create the old path, repetition can help us create a new one.

The first time we step off that well-worn trail, it’s not necessarily going to feel good. The grass is tall. There’s no clear path. We have to pay attention to every step.

Setting a boundary may feel uncomfortable when you’ve spent years saying yes. Resting can feel wrong when you’ve trained yourself to always be productive. Taking a breath before responding may feel unnatural when reacting immediately is what you’ve always done.

That doesn’t mean you’re going the wrong way.

Maybe there just isn’t a path there yet.

So you walk through the grass once. Then you do it again.

You take the breath. You soften instead of brace. You try before automatically deciding you can’t. You rest when your body tells you it needs rest. You catch yourself heading down that familiar mental road and think, Wait. I don’t have to go this way.

Every time you choose differently, you press the grass down a little more.

Eventually, there’s a new path.

And THIS is one of the reasons we practice yoga.

We practice on the mat because it gives us a place to practice how we want to live.

We practice breathing when things get hard. We practice staying present when we’re uncomfortable. We practice falling out and coming back. We practice patience. We practice stillness. We practice listening. We practice beginning again.

And if we practice those things often enough, maybe those grooves become a little deeper, too.

So this week, pay attention to your own autopilot. Notice the things you do, think, and say without really thinking about them. Don’t judge them. Just get curious about the paths you’ve created.

Then maybe ask the bigger question: Is this still the path I want to walk?

If it is, keep walking it. Make that beautiful groove even deeper.

And if it isn’t, you don’t have to completely change your life today. You don’t have to erase the old path or know exactly where the new one is going.

You just have to take one step into the tall grass. Then another. And another. After all, that’s why we call it a practice.

See you on the mat,