Although I love yoga and have been practicing for 13 years, I am not here to tell you how wonderful it is and how you need to do more of it.

I *am* here to tell you about the value of having some sort of practice. I define practice as “What you do with regularity, even when you don’t feel like doing anything else.” I firmly believe that incorporating some sort of practice, or activity, into your normal routine – whether it’s yoga, running, knitting, cooking, walking, drawing, cleaning, or anything else you can absorb yourself in – is one the best ways (if not THE best way) to help you feel a little calmer, a little clearer, more able to deal with whatever life brings.

Scientists estimate that the average person has 60,000 thoughts per day. Of those 60,000, I’d wager that only two or three are actually worth listening to. Having a practice gives your mind just enough activity to keep it occupied so that you can start to hear the voice that comes from somewhere much deeper than your mind – your innate wisdom. Whether you call it your gut instinct, your inner voice, or your women’s intuition, we’ve all got it. We probably all have stories of very specific times when we actually heard it loud and clear. The problem is that for the most part it gets drowned out by those 60,000 other thoughts. Doing your practice is like giving a hyper kid a Rubik’s cube – suddenly things get a lot quieter.

When you start creating space in your life for your intuition to rise to the surface, the inevitable dramas we all experience lose some of their power to rile you. Your life won’t magically turn into a fairy tale. But bumps in the road—whether they’re small, like traffic, or big, like losing your job—won’t have as much power over your state of mind. When you have a bad day, if you have a practice, you’ll know exactly what to do to help yourself get back on track. How many people can say that?

Here are some tips for figuring out what your practice is going to be and how to make it a part of your life:

What makes you feel better?
Is there something you do that always makes you feel better – even just a little bit? It could be something formal, like a yoga class, or something you do on your own, like gardening or knitting. Anything that makes you feel more relaxed is a great candidate.

What’s calling to you?
If you can’t think of anything you’ve already tried that’s a good practice candidate, is there something you’ve always told yourself you’ll do when you’ve got a little more time, money, or moxie? Anything that’s been making your ears perk up when you hear it mentioned in conversation? If it’s something you don’t know how to do yet, start by just familiarizing yourself with it. You don’t need to be a master – that’s why they call it practice.

What can you feasibly fit into your regular life?
You may feel at one with the world on the ski slopes, but if you only get to go skiing once a year, it ain’t a practice. You don’t have to do something every single day, but you want to be able to do whatever it is that soothes your soul on more days than not.

Start small
Whatever you choose, you do not have to do it for 2 hours every morning for it to “count.” Beware of using whatever you do to feel better as an excuse to feel worse. (I’ve been down that road, and I can promise you, it’s not fun.) If you choose gardening, watering for 10 minutes counts. Some days you’ll be able to do more of your practice than others. That’s ok.

Some practices are for emergencies only
I had a very deep chocolate chip cookie practice once. I went through a capital-T, capital-B Tragic Breakup that had me chowing cookies like my life depended on it. Yoga also helped me make it through that particularly rough spot, but even it couldn’t convince me that getting out of a bed was a good idea. Only the siren call of chocolate, butter, and sugar could do that. Luckily my dependence on cookies started to wane along with my heartache.

Growing up, my cousin Joanie and I used to spend every summer day at the pool. Joanie was fearless—she’d kick off her flops, throw her towel down and jump in. I, on the other hand, insisted on taking the steps. I’d walk down one step, hang out there a couple of seconds, then step back up out of the pool. Take two steps, and retreat. Three steps, and right back out. It took me 10 freaking minutes to finally dunk my head under that chilly water. I knew it was kinda ridiculous, but plunging in was too much of a shock.

When I read Kris’ posts about how she’s fasting for 21 days, my first thought was “I am so out of my league.” I utterly and devotedly respect Kris and her dedication to all things green and vibrant. Yet my only experience with fasting lasted exactly two days—although I had planned a five-day juice fast, I started eating after only 36 hours when my roommate came home with chips and salsa and beer.

Although I am dedicated to pursuing wellness for myself and helping people on their own journey toward better health and wellbeing, I don’t go nearly as far as many of my fellow blog posse or you readers who post so eloquently. So as I sit down to write this post, there is a part of me that keeps chanting, “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” That’s why I’m taking full, deep, conscious breaths and concentrating only on taking one step at a time.

Whether I’m getting in a cold pool or undertaking a major health initiative, my M.O. hasn’t shifted much since those days at the pool—keep nudging your comfort zone until you reach your ultimate destination. It may not suit everyone or be appropriate for every time in your life (sometimes we all need radical change, stat). But I’m writing this post in particular for any readers who aren’t vegan, or who can’t imagine fasting for 21 days, or who are intimidated by the thought of going raw. Whatever your particular health goal is, I’m here to espouse the path of taking it one step at a time. If you’re not ready to go entirely animal-product free, perhaps you can concentrate on substantially upping your veggie intake, leaving less room on your plate—and in your tummy—for meat. Or eat one raw meal a day. Or fast from lunch time to lunch time. It’s so tempting to think our efforts to get healthier are all or nothing. “I ate one potato chip, may as well eat the whole bag.” I’m here to plant the seed that it doesn’t have to be that way.

I recently shifted my comfort zone to give up chocolate. Now, you don’t know me, but trust me when I say that I was addicted. I had to have a couple squares of dark chocolate after every meal. And when I was pregnant last year, it was half a huge bar of dark chocolate after every meal. I ate myself sick on dark chocolate covered almonds (damn you Trader Joe’s and your compulsively tasty treats!) not once but three times. Finally, on that third night, I had a dream where I was talking to a friend who asked me if I wanted dessert, and I replied, “No thanks, I’ve got to give chocolate up for a while because it is just not working for me.” I woke up that next morning and resolved to heed my own advice. Now it’s been two months without a drop. And it hasn’t been that hard, yet (talk to me in another two months). But I am so pleased to report that my new comfort zone does not require chocolate.

My current shift is committing to getting some focused exercise every day. I’ve got a 13-month-old daughter who’s up at six, a limited childcare budget, and a pile of deadlines and work goals (that I am so thankful to have). Consequently, working up a sweat has taken a backseat to getting enough sleep, eating decently, and getting work done. The problem is, this lack of exercise has started to impact my energy level, disrupt my sleep, and shorten my fuse. It’s only been five days, but this past week I’ve been donning the sweats and lunging, planking, squatting and warrior 2-ing my way to a sheen every morning. Sometimes the baby is sticking her finger in my ear as I hold that plank pose, but we’re learning how to work around each other. So far, it’s tougher than giving up chocolate, but I figure I’ll just keep doing it until it becomes my new comfort zone. (I’m already sleeping better, which is pretty damn comfy.) Next up? Re-establishing my meditation practice.

So, how are you shifting your comfort zone? Are you more of a one-step-at-a-time of a dive-right-in type of person?