The In-Between Season: Refinement Over Reinvention

It’s March here in Florida, which means the afternoons are warming, the days are getting longer, and many of our trees and bushes are beginning to bloom, soon coating everything in pollen. So spring is close enough to feel, but it hasn’t fully arrived. This threshold space carries its own particular energy.

This time of year often mirrors how many of us feel: the initial surge of New Year motivation has faded, most resolutions have either softened or dissolved, and there is a subtle sense that growth is coming. During this in-between season, we are standing at the edge of change, neither fully inside it nor fully outside it. And I’m here to say, yoga was built for seasons like this.

In Yoga Sutra II.46, Patañjali writes:
“Sthira sukham āsanam.”
The posture should embody steadiness (sthira) and ease (sukha). This is not simply a cue for physical alignment in a yoga pose; rather, it’s a blueprint for how to meet life.

Too much effort without ease creates strain, and too much softness without structure leads to collapse. The balance we look for between the two is deliberate. As B.K.S. Iyengar wrote in Light on Yoga, “Perfection in an asana is achieved when the effort to perform it becomes effortless.” Effort and effortlessness are not opposites; they refine each other. The pose no longer feels like something you are fighting to hold. It begins to hold itself because the architecture is correct. 

My position is that early March asks us for that refinement. Rather than treating this in-between season as a moment for dramatic reinvention, it is far more intelligent to treat it as a moment for steadiness. Instead of adding more, practice with greater precision. Instead of chasing motivation, build consistency. Instead of forcing growth, establish a stable base and let growth arise from it.

Back to Patañjali, who continues in Yoga Sutra II.47:
“Prayatna śaithilya ananta samāpattibhyām.”
Asana is mastered when effort relaxes and the mind merges with the infinite.

The progression moves us from steadiness and ease to softening excessive effort. Of course, there is no instruction to rush, nor is there a directive to strain toward transformation.

Seasonal shifts are not just poetic; they are physiological. As daylight extends and temperatures fluctuate, the nervous system adjusts. Our energy levels are inconsistent, sleep patterns may shift, and motivation may waver. That does not mean you are failing at discipline; it means your body and it’s biology are adapting.

For that reason, this is a time to emphasize regulation over intensity. During practice, particularly through vinyasa flow, that might mean lengthening the exhale slightly beyond the inhale, slowing transitions through poses so the breath sets the pace, and holding standing postures long enough to build structural strength rather than racing through them. 

The Bhagavad Gita reinforces this restraint. In Chapter 6, verse 16, Krishna tells Arjuna:
“Yoga is not for one who eats too much, nor for one who eats too little… not for one who sleeps too much, nor for one who sleeps too little.”
Yoga rejects extremes. It favors steadiness, rhythm, and moderation.

By March, the adrenaline of January is gone, and that is a gift because adrenaline is not discipline, and your nervous system will find plenty of painful ways to demonstrate this. Discipline is more like repetition, attention, and showing up when the novelty has worn off.

When in a lull, instead of dramatically changing your yoga practice, observe where you are imprecise or where you might rush. Some of the biggest transformations occur when the practitioner pays attention to areas of the body where they compensate due to either a lack of strength or flexibility.  Try it in a pose like Warrior II, where refinement is simple but sometimes demanding: press evenly through all four corners of both feet, track the front knee directly over the second toe, and keep the ribs from flaring forward. Of course, there’s more where that came from, but it starts with small corrections like these! When repeated consistently and consciously, meaningful change occurs over time. Our bodies adapt through precision and repetition, not through occasional bursts of intensity.

Iyengar also wrote, “The asana is not the posture you assume mechanically. It involves thought, discipline, and sustained awareness.” Sustained awareness can’t be rushed; it is slow by nature.

The majority of our classes at OYC are quite intentionally seventy-five minutes long. Shorter classes can spike energy, but longer practices help to regulate it. With adequate time, you can settle into the breath, warm the tissues intelligently, hold poses long enough to build structural strength, and close in a way that integrates all the hard work you’ve done. Regulation, not stimulation, is what builds resilience.

Our community reinforces this steadiness. When our motivation dips, discipline is much easier to maintain in a room full of people practicing together! Early March is not the time to disappear and promise yourself you will return when your life circumstances settle down! Now is the time to commit to consistency and let repetition strengthen both body and mind.

As we move toward spring, consider this: where in my life am I rushing what has not yet fully unfolded? What would it look like to embody sthira — stability, while maintaining sukha — spaciousness?

Spring will arrive, growth will come, and energy will rise. The practice is not about accelerating the season but about meeting it well, with a foundation that is already steady. That foundation is built now, in the in-between, through refinement rather than reinvention.

Jai Bhagwan, 

Kristine