Navigating to the Center
How do we find that delicate space between too much and too little, between effort and ease, between striving and surrendering?
Asana, in its essence, means the seat of awareness. It’s not only about how we move the body, but how we inhabit the moment. Every posture invites us to explore where we are in relation to our edges, to recognize when we’re pushing too far, holding back too much, or avoiding what’s uncomfortable. The practice is not in reaching a perfect shape, but in skillfully returning, again and again, to the middle, the place where harmony and awareness meet.
Life itself mirrors this constant dance of extremes.
The ups and downs, highs and lows, rising and falling, pushing and pulling, these forces move through us, just as they move through nature. The mind, the body, the seasons, the tides, all are in continuous motion.
So how do we navigate through these movements without losing our center?
The Dance Between Pushing and Pulling
In Taoism, there’s a beautiful metaphor: imagine life as a necklace holding loosely between your fingers. When you pull it towards you, it moves away. When you push it away, it swings back to you. But when you allow it to simply rest where it is, it naturally finds its balance.
This is the art of navigating to the center, allowing things to be as they are. Not grasping, not resisting. Simply being with what arises.
Because every time we push, we create tension. Every time we pull, we create imbalance. Nature, in her intelligence, will always move to restore equilibrium. So when we pause and allow, life begins to self-correct. Just like the body does. Just like the breath does. Just like the seasons do.
Learning from Nature
Autumn lets go. Leaves fall to the ground, nourishing the earth. That nourishment becomes food for the roots, strengthening the tree from within during winter’s stillness. And then, when the time is right, life blossoms again in spring and flourishes in summer.
Each phase serves the next. Nothing is wasted. Nothing is hurried.
When we align ourselves with this rhythm, we too begin to trust the natural intelligence that guides our lives. We no longer need to control every outcome. We simply need to stay aware, and awake enough to notice when we’ve drifted to one extreme or the other, and gently guide ourselves back to center.
Awareness as the Compass
The essence of navigating to the middle is presence.
Awareness becomes the compass that tells us when we’ve moved too far in any direction. It’s subtle work, listening deeply to the body, the breath, the mind, and the heart. In a posture, awareness tells us when we’re pushing beyond what serves us, and when we’re avoiding sensation or experience out of fear.
In life, it tells us when we’re striving for something that isn’t ours to reach right now, or when we’re shrinking back from what’s asking to be lived.
The middle is rarely a fixed point. It’s a living, breathing space that moves with us. It asks a constant tuning in, into where we are at that moment. It’s the quiet strength that arises when we allow ourselves to be exactly where we are, without trying to be somewhere else.
Reflection
As you move through your practice, or your day, consider these questions:
• When do I feel the tendency to push? What am I trying to prove or achieve in those moments?
• When do I feel the tendency to pull, to cling, to grasp, to want to hold on?
• When do I notice myself avoiding sensations, emotions, or situations?
• When do I feel the urge to control the outcome, rather than trust the process?
• What does it feel like in my body when I am in balance?
• What helps me return to my center when I’ve drifted away from it?
• Can I allow this moment to be as it is, without pushing, pulling, fixing, or fleeing?
Living from the Center
Navigating to the center is a continuous, compassionate practice. It’s not about perfection, it’s about relationship. Relationship with the breath, with the body, the mind, with others, with the ebb and flow of life itself.
Each moment offers a new opportunity to notice: where am I now? And from that noticing, to gently return, to the middle, to the seat of awareness, to the heart of being. In that place, life doesn’t need to be forced or avoided. It unfolds naturally. And we begin to recognize that the center has never been lost, it’s always here, quietly waiting for us to return.
A Gentle Invitation
If this reflection speaks to you, this practice of softening into the middle, of allowing things to be as they are, then you might find resonance in the online mini-retreat “Let It Be”
It’s a space to pause, breathe, and reconnect with your natural rhythm.
An invitation to rest in the center of your own being, where nothing needs to be different, and everything belongs.