Aiming the Hose and Missing the Point.. When Concentration Becomes Comedy

Lately I’ve been sitting with what it really means to “relax into the moment".... a phrase we say kinda loosely in yoga class as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Most days, it feels anything but easy. Life moves fast. Our calendars become full. Even our “downtime” gets swallowed by chores, scrolling, errands, or the next thing on the to-do list.

Why is it that so many of us have this insatiable urge to keep moving… even when part of us is craving rest? And why when we get a little space in our schedule, do we immediately look for something else to fill it?

I had a humbling moment recently with my teacher, Kranti. This moment helped me stumble my way into awareness of how the insatiable desire for productivity was showing up in my life recently.

​It's actually pretty funny... I was telling her a story about watering my garden and trying to relate it back to a concept we were discussing in our session together. I have a few younger trees planted this year that need extra love during dry weather, but my hose doesn’t quite reach them. So instead of taking the steps needed to extend the hose, I have been twisting the nozzle to the “jet” setting to shoot water across the yard, holding the trigger down until my finger starts cramping. It’s ridiculous. I get tense, I squint one eye, I brace my whole body like I’m trying to win some water-gun championship.

And the best part?
I was telling her this as an example of Dharana, a single-pointed concentration in yoga. I was convinced this intense focus on angling the water up and over toward the trees was profound. Kranti just looked at me, smiled and said: “What if you just extend the hose so you can relax and enjoy?” She went on to say that Dharana is not a forceful approach of concentration.. it's a state of focus and flow.. like oil pouring from a vessel in a continued stream.. 

Oh.
Right.
That would make sense.

It was such a humbling, hilarious moment...one of those times where I have to laugh at myself and just say.... “Yep, I really did that.” And after that comes the pivot. I take the next wise step. Learning something sometimes small but usually meaningful about how I am moving through the world.

And I've learned that it doesn't have to be an "all or nothing" approach. The solution doesn't have to be to extend the hose OR use the jet setting. I can just re-asses the way I'm interacting with the activity each time I do it. I was reminded even today by my partner that I often love to play when I'm doing my daily chores. Playing water gun with the trees was probably my inner child/spirit's way of wanting to play while fulfilling my watering responsibilities. Now that I can recognize how my body was tensing up, I can choose to play with the jet setting and let my body relax into the fun if that happens to be part of the moment. And if it's not fun that day... well then I'll just go extend the hose and choose the way that feels best that moment.

It made me think of the way we navigate a physical yoga practice. We wobble in balancing positions, or stumble through a transition, or maybe realize we’re clenching the jaw while trying to “soften the shoulders.” Yet every wobble invites a pivot: a moment of regathering, steadying, reconnecting. The wobble humbles us; the pivot builds resilience.

And maybe that’s what “relaxing into the moment” actually looks like.... not a perfect, peaceful state where everything slows down just because we want it to. No... I think it's more a willingness to notice the tension that may be present, laugh at the ways we make life harder than it needs to be, and take the small pivot that brings us back to what's most important.

What if we let our daily stumbles be as lighthearted as the ones on the mat?

What if we approached each pivot with the same curiosity we bring to practice?

What if relaxing into the moment wasn’t something to achieve, but something to nurture?

Sometimes, the hose just needs to be extended.
Sometimes, the moment is inviting us to soften, play and enjoy life a little more.
And maybe.... just maybe.... that’s the real practice of yoga.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and reflect with me. My hope is that this story encourages you to notice your own “garden hose moments”...  the times where life could feel just a bit lighter with a small pivot or softening. Resilience isn’t rigid.... it’s adaptable, playful, and rooted in presence. May you find a little more space this week to extend your own hose or play in your garden, breathe deeply, and enjoy the moment right in front of you.


With humility and grace,

Katie Beene,
studio co-owner