This question has been rolling around in my mind for years (decades?). It gets triggered by my own relationship to rhythm, ritual and consistency, as well as my interactions with the global yoga community.

I’ve experienced yoga students and teachers who practice to heal themselves, and I’ve also experienced people in the community who practice to reinforce the habits that are hurting them.

I know that yoga is inherently a healing practice, but like anything else, can be misconstrued to cause harm. I’m sure we all know people whose relationships with religion, fitness and even eating habits have made them, well… less pleasant to be around.

So, again, I ask myself, Why do I practice? Is it to stroke my ego about my flexible body? Is it to connect with a community? Is it to experience moments outside of monkey mind? Is it to detoxify myself from the other un-healthful choices I’ve made?

The question shifts and evolves, but always remains. Sometimes, however, life provides a concrete answer.

This week, my family home, which has been in my life for all but my first 10 years of life, was destroyed. A series of burst pipes flooded the house from the top down, leaving no wall, ceiling or floor intact. Luckily, the catastrophe was discovered within two days, but not before extensive damage was done.

As it has been for several crises in my life, I had a sense of leaving my body when hearing the news. This resulted in an emotional clarity separate from the panic that filled my body, a sense of lucidity about what would be required of me – strength, resilience and right-action. An enormous number of decisions need to be made. By me.

What I notice is how the event affected the other people in my life, and how I was able to feel what I was feeling, without being consumed by it.

There is a sense of peace and okay-ness, despite the chaos that surrounds me.  I know the flesh-and-blood me is actually filled with confusion, anxiety and grief. But I also know that I have access to something that transcends, a source of limitless wisdom and capability.

While I don’t believe we should worry about life’s challenges, I know they will undoubtedly come. And that, my friends, is why I practice. Without knowing what the world will bring to me, my soul urges me to return to the mat, the cushion and to my knees. It’s my way of tapping into the strength that keeps me standing. In this moment, I know exactly why I practice.

Have you asked yourself the question? What is today’s answer?