Blog — Jo Logue Yoga

I turn 50 soon. In the middle of June - the best month for birthdays.

I’m a great believer in age being merely a number. Big birthdays don’t really bother me. It’s nice to have an excuse for a couple of get togethers and a special present or two (although I’m a bit stuck for ideas, which is frustrating all those closest to me…) But I don’t remember ever getting angsty at the usual milestones. I tend to see them as a doorway to the next adventure rather than a time to take stock of what’s gone before. Exciting times!

50 feels a little different. Half a century of living feels big. A lot of life. A lot of living. And it shows in our faces and our bodies. I can feel it in my memories, my emotions, my coping mechanisms, my patterns and stories. And I can see it in the three humans I’ve had a hand in creating and raising. They’re bigger now. So I must be too.

Over the last few months I’ve found myself wondering if this is the life I expected. When I was little did I think I’d be this kind of person, living this kind of life? And if not what would I want to change? Would I change anything? Should I change anything? If I had a chance to do it again, would I do it differently? I don’t know.

I look at my friends with important jobs. A lot of them have incredibly fulfilling careers that in some way define them. They seem to lend them an extra dimension and allow them to have something of their own that takes them away from the home and their roles there. I had that too once. And I have begun to wonder if I have diminished myself by turning my back on that.

But then I remember that 50 is just another number. I may groan a bit when I stand up sometimes. I might need glasses for literally everything now. But essentially I still feel incredibly young. I still feel like I’ve only just begun. In fact I probably feel that more now than I did even five years ago. I have changed and grown so much. Through my studies, my spiritual practices and the pivots I have had to take to accommodate everything life has thrown at me. And I know for sure that growth never stops. The journey is for life. So this is not a dead end. It’s not the disappointing culmination of how ever many missed opportunities. It’s just another step along the road. It’s the doorway to the next series of opportunities.

It may not be the life I imagined. But it’s the life I have. The life I’m living. And isn’t that what it’s all about? The act of living. Consciously, curiously, actively being alive. Noticing, acknowledging and being aware of what makes your life. And how your life, and the way you live it, impacts those around you.

Making every breath count, every word, every touch. Not necessarily in big ways. But being present for it all. Really living it.

Much love, Jo x

I realised recently that I stopped teaching (aside from my singular, wonderful one-to-one client…) almost exactly two years ago in the midst of some fairly heavy personal shit that demanded all my time and attention, leaving little room for anything else. I sent out a wee email bidding farewell to my regulars, I parked all my social media, I disabled my website, shutting it all down with a vague promise to myself that I’d be back.

In October last year I finished a second 200 hour teaching training in Transpersonal Yoga. The course was transformative. It changed the way I practise yoga, the way I approach life, the way I feel about myself as a human being and as a teacher. And at the end of that course I was all set to start teaching again - in part because I felt that I’d better DO SOMETHING with the training. But something stopped me (spoiler - it was me - it’s always me).

Whilst nothing was wrong exactly, nothing was just right either. I tied myself in knots telling myself I had to figure out what I wanted to teach, why I wanted to teach, if I wanted to teach. And when those answers didn’t come easily I turned my attention to my online presence, thinking I’d get that sorted first and deal with the particulars once all the background stuff was perfect. Except I hate social media. I’m pretty sure Instagram actually made me ill and Facebook is just the Yellow Pages for our times. I can’t go back to Twitter or X or whatever the fuck it is because it’s awful and something strange used to happen to time when I was on it.

Which led me back to my sleeping website. A labour of love that I’m pretty sure no one ever sees but which feels safe and controllable and useful. But this website is never going to be perfect. Mostly because I still haven’t made all the decisions about what / why / if… And the thought of publishing a less than perfect anything feels a bit exposing.

But slowly, slowly I am making decisions. I want to write - something like a journal maybe - and post here regularly. I want to share things I love - books, props, self-care bits and bobs, accessories etc… I want to create and share free resources - mediations, rituals and short movement practices to support and nourish. And I've arrived at place where I can embrace the slowness of the decision making process. Where I can allow myself the space and grace to try things out and change my mind if they don’t work or don’t suit me or I don’t like them. Where I can allow what I show to the world to reflect me - unfinished, unpolished, mutable.

And so here it is, this website. A work in progress. Much like myself. Depending on your beliefs (and mine have definitely become what most would describe as a wee bit woo…) the journey never ends, we are never complete. So why hide the journey? I think as a society we are encouraged to hide it, to sanitise it in someway. Tidy it up, make it part of the hustle, make it goal oriented rather than just part of the human experience. Always working towards something but hiding the moving parts. All the shit you have to do in the background so that even the progress is slick, stage managed, produced, monetised.

I’m not going to hide the moving parts any more. It’s possibly a bit of a cop out to say that here, given that very few people are actually going to stumble upon this site without the usual social media sign posts. But it feels like quite a big step for me. I don’t have it all worked out, it’s never going to be perfect, I will almost certainly change my mind about the what / why / if many, many times. And that’s okay. That’s life.

Much love, Jo xxx