I am writing today about what it means to set an intention. 

What is an intention? I was introduced to the idea many years ago by my friend and yogi Mel who is full of heart, full of smarts, and, yes, full of intention. She said that it’s good to “set an intention” for your yoga practice each time you get started. I had heard other people say that, too, but I had no idea what it meant, so I ignored them. But you ignore Mel at your own peril. So I smiled, nodded blankly, and tried to act like I knew what she was talking about. Oh yes, an intention, good idea. Yes, definitely. Smile.

Before yoga became something that I did every single morning, it frequently appeared on the list of things that I hoped to do more often, but ended up lower on the priority list than I wished. But it was true that I got up and out of bed every morning. So I got this idea that before getting into bed every night I would “set an intention” to do some yoga the next morning. Then, if I missed the opportunity (or forgot), I would give myself a second chance and set the intention in the morning before getting out of bed. The first few days were kind of a bomb. I really had no idea what I was doing. But I carried on. Setting an intention became a starter course to my mindfulness entree. Then it became more than that.

After a few days, I started to feel like it was making some kind of difference. And I liked it. Some days my intention was lame, I knew, but I always allowed myself grace and accepted that it was the best I could come up with at the time. Whatever it was, I went with it. I also came up with a couple of zingers that sang and sparkled, and those more than made up for the lame ones.

After a month or two, I understood what an intention was. I understood what a difference it can make to set an intention. No one could explain this to me; I think you just have to figure it out for yourself. One day, when I was starting to feel a little cocky, I decided to set this for my intention: “I will revolve around my own axis.” That day, I witnessed an adult meltdown. I stayed in my own orbit, and I did not take on any of the heat. I observed and assisted, but continued to revolve only around my own axis. Not the axis of the meltee. Of all the intentions I’ve ever set, I like to think that one is my best work. 

Once, coming up empty, I decided on “I will be open to learning.” It seemed harmless enough. But when I arrived at work that day, I discovered that my computer had crashed through the night, leaving no trace of the career-defining document I was sure I’d saved. I do have a tendency toward the melodramatic. But I’m not a fool. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I resolved never to set that intention again. Despite having mellowed a bit on the subject, that particular intention left me feeling a bit burnt and crispy at the edges for a long while.

I recommend giving this a try. Intentions can be abstract or concrete. They can help you study, start a yoga practice, put down your fork as you begin to recognize that feeling of satiety, try meditation, close your eyes and stretch your arms to the ceiling after lunch. Intentions are multi-purpose, which is an essential part of their charm. I weave them into the fabric of my days, and they make my life more resilient, productive, interesting. 

Here is a partial list of intentions I have set. You can use these to get the juices flowing, but then you may want to create some of your own.

Put one foot in front of the other.

Keep your feet on the ground.

Be patient with yourself.

Be kind to yourself.

Be “self-ish.”

Be your own gift to yourself.

Revolve around your own axis.

Fill up your own space.

Dance.

Pay attention. (I call this the “attention intention.”)

Be a big red circle. (I have no explanation for this.)

Put your money where your mouth is. (I had broken a crown.)

Maintain your equilibrium.

Be open to new ideas.

Move before the day warms up.

Maintain flexibility.

Try again.