Restarting again and again.

  Since I started practicing, in my life, each beginning was an opportunity to reborn. At first, motivation was an unstoppable force, an unwavering commitment, practicing without fail, with effort and dedication. Life seemed to align with that will, and growth was continuous, albeit slow, but always present. Over time, that intensity shifted. Practice stopped being just an external act and became a reflection of my life itself. It didn’t go away or I left it; simply, other paths opened up. It was what I could offer at that moment, and that was what my practice could be. Pausing, starting again, not with the same vigor as before but always with the same commitment. Life taught me that starting over does not mean going back to the same place, but transforming oneself in the process. Resilience, that ability to rise after falling, often with open wounds and amid tough battles, defines that path. Rejuvenating, adapting, changing skin, and shining again, even from darkness. My practice now is that: a constant reinvention. In my practice, these new forms emerge in moments, coexisting with what I’ve always held firm: my Ashtanga practice, which I love so much. And in you, what does it mean to start again and again? Do doubts or conflicts arise? Are you able to accept the process of starting over?

force, an unwavering commitment, practicing without fail, with effort and dedication. Life seemed to align with that will, and growth was continuous, albeit slow, but always present. Over time, that intensity shifted. Practice stopped being just an external act and became a reflection of my life itself. It didn’t go away or I left it; simply, other paths opened up. It was what I could offer at that moment, and that was what my practice could be. Pausing, starting again, not with the same vigor as before but always with the same commitment. Life taught me that starting over does not mean going back to the same place, but transforming oneself in the process. Resilience, that ability to rise after falling, often with open wounds and amid tough battles, defines that path. Rejuvenating, adapting, changing skin, and shining again, even from darkness. My practice now is that: a constant reinvention. In my practice, these new forms emerge in moments, coexisting with what I’ve always held firm: my Ashtanga practice, which I love so much. And in you, what does it mean to start again and again? Do doubts or conflicts arise? Are you able to accept the proce