Written Christmas day 2011: A seemingly unintentional awareness of dynamic movement has taken root in my yoga practice over the last few months. I am suddenly hyperaware of how well I transition between poses.  The sun salutation is an excellent example of this.  As I fold forward from tadasana (mountain pose) into uttanasana (standing forward bend), I keep my arms extended alongside my ears to maintain a fully extended spine.  As I place my hands on the mat before stepping back into plank, I mindfully space them wider than has been my habit, trying to assimilate an adjustment made frequently by my teachers.  When I step forward from adho mukha svanasana (downward dog) into Virabadrasana (warrior) One, I try to integrate my foot with my core, making it a strong yet smooth step forward.   I know each end point like the back of my hand - I can do plank, downward dog and warrior one without much difficulty.  So why focus on the actual movement into each of these familiar postures?  I think that my body has learned that if it moves with integrity, it lands in a place that is more likely to be safe, healthy and vibrant - in other words, a much more beautiful end point. It wasn't until recently that I realized why these mindful transitions have become my priority.  Transition has been my status quo since September.  I have been living in a state of flux since then.  Moving out of my house and in with friends, finishing up my commitments in Phoenix and waiting for my life in Denver to begin, my current situation looks nothing like the life I had or have waiting for me.  I have tried to live this transition with integrity, stepping forward from the stable place that I knew so well into this less certain and familiar place with strength and flow.  I hoped to take with me the healthy habits I had developed into my time of transition, so that I would arrive on the other side safe, healthy and vibrant. The problem with mindful transitions is that remaining in this place for too long causes fatigue.  Towards the end of my yoga practice, laziness can seep in and inevitably my spine rounds and my core sags.  The integrity that marked the beginning of my practice is relaxed out of exhaustion.  Guilt builds over not maintaining it, but somewhere in my mind I start making excuses to justify my mediocre performance.   I am sad and disappointed to report that my life transition has arrived at this point of fatigue.  I am tired of not having a space, outside of my car and my suitcase, that is all mine, and only mine.  The healthy habits that refueled me in the earlier months of this fluctuating time have all but disappeared.  My body is physically spent and I have no motivation to engage in those activities that previously provided me with a sense of balance.  I fear I may have lost what I defined as integrity in making this move. Even now, as I lament over this pitiful realization, I try to find the silver lining in this storm cloud of disappointment.  What I notice is that although I did not use the tools I expected to use, I did in fact develop some new mindful habits that have served me well.  I did find a new perspective on how to maintain peace of mind in an unstable place.  I began allowing myself to feel angry, sad or frustrated, while not acting on these feelings.  I maintained a dedication to calmness by giving myself space to feel all manner of emotions, but trying not to transfer these feelings into actions that would propagate these feelings, or give these feelings a life of their own.  I learned that if I kept a negative feeling a feeling, and not a behavior, that my feeling would often lose intensity or disappear with time.  If I let a negative feeling become a negative behavior, I almost always regretted the outcome.   In addition, I have developed a keen sense of what I need to get by in this world and this list of material possessions continues to shrink.  I learned that if I can cook for myself this keeps me grounded.  As a result, wherever I was living, I took up more pantry space than closet space.  And I have learned to trust myself, the decisions that I make and my ability to turn these decisions into a meaningful reality.  Even though I am depleted in many ways, my faith in myself has never truly faltered - it may have tremored a bit here and there, but I managed to keep these feelings in perspective and give myself space to define this transition as it unfolded.