For most of my adult life I’ve self-identified as a butt-kicker. I launched a writing career in my early 20s, while raising a houseful of small children; published several books by the time I was 30, and have re-invented myself through hard times and career shifts more times than I can count. I’ve never met a problem I can’t hustle my way out of.

At least, that’s what I’ve always told myself.

Maybe that’s partly why, after a rough holiday that included your typical divorced-parent stressors and regrets, plus the unexpected addition of a sudden and painful breakup, I dove headlong into a New Year’s challenge at my yoga studio. The challenge? To take 60 studio classes, in two months (59 days, since February is a short month, but who’s counting?).

In my typically action-oriented way, I reasoned that keeping busy would help me: create a distraction, give me something else to focus on rather than playing and re-playing scenarios in my head.

And it has helped – immensely, actually, but not always for the reasons I anticipated at the beginning.

On the first day of the challenge, my instructor talked about santosha which was the studio’s focus for the month of January. Santosha is a Sanskrit word that can be loosely translated to mean “contentment”.

I’ve always thought of myself as a pretty happy person, so I wasn’t sure what lessons I’d be able to glean from this particular focus. But. “It’s not about being happy – that’s a different thing,” my instructor explained that first day of January. “Santosha means finding contentment with what is happening right now, even if it’s hard or negative.”

Wait. Being content with what is? Like, right now? You mean, instead of trying to fix it?

But what if “what is”, you know, sucks?

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