Life at The Prana Farm: Lessons From Four-Legged Friends
Mornings on The Prana Farm start slow. The sun creeps over the trees, the magpies start their morning songs, and before long, a curious dog appears at the open door, tail wagging, eyes bright, full of love and excitement. Not a care, nor a thought for the day ahead.
There’s something about that moment, the still air, the open door, and their pure, patient energy, that reminds us what presence really feels like. No rush. No overthinking. Just being.
It’s funny how animals seem to understand what we humans often forget: that life unfolds perfectly when we stop trying to race ahead of it. It’s funny how humans always believe themselves the most intelligent. Watching our dog, our canine queen, I’m reminded of how easy it is to move faster than our own breath, both on the mat and in daily life. Chasing the next pose, the next plan, the next version of ourselves, and miss the space in between where life is actually happening.
The yoga practice, much like mornings here on the farm, invites us to slow down, to breathe with what is, rather than trying to push toward what’s next. Presence isn’t found in doing more, but in noticing what’s already here: the warmth of the sun, the sound of the wind, the rise and fall of your breath. It is noticing what we can get rid of, not what we can attain.
Dogs seem to have mastered that art, they rest, they play, they listen, and they love without trying to be anywhere else. That right there is the real yoga, learning to meet each moment the way they do: open-hearted, curious, and at ease in the simple rhythm of being alive.
In our busy lives, it’s so easy to forget. But out here, watching the dogs greet the morning with nothing but curiosity and joy, you realise how little it takes to feel whole. Just presence. Just awareness. Just being.
That’s the gift our furry companions bring: a living, breathing reminder that presence isn’t something to achieve; it’s something to remember. It’s not about smarts, it’s about heart. Whether you’re walking the paddocks, sitting with your tea, or moving through your practice, every breath offers another chance to return.
At The Prana Farm, yoga isn’t limited to the mat, it’s woven into the rhythm of the land, the wind through the gums, the soft footfalls of padded feet that know that this moment, right here, is enough.