In a yoga class this morning the instructor announced that we would be doing splits today. Excuse me? She wasn’t talking about banana splits. She meant real, my-body-doesn’t-do-that splits. Amid everyone’s protests she reminded us that in yoga, as in many things in life, it’s the journey that counts.

I’ve been craving instant gratification in another area. This picture:

What is it with me and almost impossible pine cones??

which I feel will NEVER be finished. I can’t slide down into the splits and I can’t snap my fingers and make this painting finished. And if I could, what then? New poses that I can’t automatically do and new paintings the I can’t finish in a session.

Little by little I can work towards difficult poses and little by little I can conquer difficult paintings. I may never be able to fully do the splits, but my body will still benefit from mindful and careful attempts. I may never be a wildly successful and famous artist, but I will still benefit from daily brush strokes. There’s a reason why yoga is referred to as a “practice,” perhaps I should think of painting as a practice, too.