My journey has taught me a lot about flow and grace, about finding ease in every movement. But life isn’t always a smooth, fluid sequence. Sometimes, it’s prickly. It’s sharp edges and unexpected thorns that you don’t see coming until you’ve already been stung. It’s a truth I’ve come to accept: for every sun-drenched day on the mat, there will be a moment that feels messy and uncomfortable.

There was a time when I believed the goal was to avoid the thorns entirely—to navigate life so skillfully that I could simply exist in a state of constant ease. But that’s not how it works. The universe has its own rhythm, and it sends us both the soft petals and the sharp points. I’ve learned that the true practice isn’t in avoiding the bad; it’s in accepting that both the good and the bad are part of the process.

This brings me back to the philosophy of Yin and Yang, a concept so central to my teaching and my own life. The good moments—the laughter, the effortless flows, the quiet joy—are the yin. They are soft, nurturing, and beautiful. The challenging moments—the frustration, the setbacks, the heartache—are the yang. They are the sharp, active forces that test us.

But the real lesson is that they are not separate. The “prickly” parts of our journey are often what make us stronger, more resilient, and more grateful for the smooth parts. They are the lessons that deepen our empathy and give us the wisdom to guide others. You learn to appreciate the bloom that much more because you understand what it takes to grow among the thorns.

So, I’ve stopped trying to live a life without thorns. Instead, I’m learning to move with them, to acknowledge their presence, and to accept them as an integral part of the beautiful, complicated journey. For better or worse, it’s all part of the flow.