When I first learned to cross-country ski I was taken to the Darling Run trailhead. There, along the rails-to-trails path, a blessed being in a snowmobile had broken a trail. There it was, mile after mile of perfectly tracked snow. All I had to do was drop my skis into the pre-made tracks, push off with my right foot, glide for a bit, and then push off again with my left foot. Kick. Glide. Kick. Glide. It was effortless. And mindless. I didn’t have to think of where I was going. I was going wherever the tracks led.

Sometimes though, in a moment of distraction, my skis would jump the tracks and I would find myself stuck in deep, resistant snow. Forward motion was no longer possible without great effort. Better to stop and maneuver the skis back into the pre-made tracks. And even though sometimes it seemed as if the pre-made tracks didn’t exactly conform to my particular body proportions, it was far easier to conform than to make my own, new tracks.

In yoga there is a word for these pre-made tracks. The word is samskara. A samskara is any habitual pattern or way of doing something that requires no thought. It is the mind on automatic pilot. It frequently shows up for me when I am heading to the store only to find myself halfway home because I just dropped into my usual, rutted pattern of right and left hand turns, not thinking.

Samskaras are deeply comfortable patterns that allow us to let go of thinking and just enjoy the ride. The only problem with them comes when we no longer want to go to the place the tracks lead to. When that happens, we realize we have to get off the tracks and break trail ourselves, and this is arduous and exhausting.

A New Year’s resolution is really not a resolution, but more of a realization. A realization—sometimes sudden, sometimes deeply known but stuffed down inside, that the old, comfortable tracks aren’t taking me where I want to go. Maybe I don’t even know where I want to go, but I know for sure that these tracks aren’t getting me there. And it is in this spacious and clear moment, that I make the decision to set out upon the vast expanse of trackless snow.

I know the work will be arduous at first, and exhausting. I won’t get very far. I will have to stop often and breathe. And the world will have to stop too, and breathe with me. And each day, at my point of exhaustion, I will recognize that I have made enough of an effort for today. But when I turn around, I find the way back on the tracked snow is much easier. I suddenly realize that because of my efforts today, tomorrow I will be able to come at least this far on today’s tracks before having to break new trail. And in this way, little by little, day by day, I will get where I want to go. In my own self-made, consciously-made, tracks. Kick. Glide. Kick. Glide.

Kathleen Thompson is the owner of Main Street Yoga, 10 S. Main St., Mansfield, PA 16933. To contact her call 570-660-5873 or online www.yogamansfield.com or email at mainstreetyoga@gmail.com