Slowing Down with Yoga
In a world that rewards constant motion, slowing down can feel countercultural, even risky. As a working professional, especially in a field like law where urgency is the default, I’ve spent years moving fast because I felt I had to. And as a Black man, the pressure to keep pushing, keep proving, keep outperforming was something I learned long before my first paycheck. “Twice as good, to get half”, lolz. But yoga taught me something the world never did, the body has wisdom that speed can’t access. When I step on the mat, I’m reminded that yoga isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. The Sanskrit word asana means “seat,” a reminder that every posture is an opportunity to sit with ourselves, but more honestly.
Slowing down is where that honesty begins. And I desperately needed to slow down and be more honest with myself. In my communities, we often carry stress layered from generations of survival. For my New Orleans friends, even more so because of our experience with Hurricane Katrina.
Our nervous systems rarely get the invitation to rest. For me, reclaiming my breath became my act of healing. It gave me space to be more than what my career demandedand more than what society expected. The mat became the one place where I didn’t have to perform. I could just be. Be AJ. As a vinyasa-based Yoga Instructor, I encourage my students to find their own pace, rhythm, and flow. Not the rhythm that capitalism pushes on us, not the speed that workplace culture demands, but the rhythm the soul actually recognizes and vibes with. That’s where transformation happens. Flow is a conversation between breath and body, and slowing down is what allows you to hear it truly.
Slowing down also changed who I am as a professional. It made me more intentional. More patient. More grounded. More responsive instead of reactive. Instead of trying to “win” my arguments in my legal world, I aim to educate opposing counsel to my viewpoint. I learned that clarity comes from spaciousness, not from rushing. That rest is a strategy, not an obstacle. And that my decisions, legal or personal, are better when I make them from a regulated, embodied place. Most importantly, slowing down allowed me to see myself fully. To show up as a Big Black man in wellness with ease, not tension. To be a possibility model for anyone who’s ever felt like yoga wasn’t “for them.” My hope is that yoga feels accessible, familiar, and yours. When we slow down, we don’t lose momentum; we gain direction.
Fam. You are allowed to breathe deeply. You are allowed to slow down. You are allowed to come home to yourself.
