Doing Hard Things - And Why It's Not About the Headstand

We’ve all heard it before: We can do hard things. It’s a phrase passed between friends, offered in parenting advice, echoed throughout digital culture. I remind my children of it often. But despite the repetition, it doesn’t always land. We still doubt ourselves. We still compare. We wonder: Why does this seem easier for others? Why is this so hard for me?

For a long time, I thought “hard things” meant proving something or arriving at a finish line. But life after 50 has taught me otherwise. Hard things aren’t always about achievement. They’re about practice. Like yoga, it’s not about the perfect pose, touching your toes, or mastering a headstand. It’s about showing up—breath by breath, moment by moment. So why, after years of practice and teaching, am I still frustrated that I haven’t nailed an unassisted headstand?

That question led me to something deeper. My frustration wasn’t really about the pose. It was about what I thought the pose meant—mastery, credibility, validation. But yoga, like personal growth or any meaningful work, isn’t linear. And it’s not performative. It’s personal. It’s process over product.

Being a woman in this stage of life can be one of the hard things. Bodies change. Energy moves. Roles evolve—sometimes in ways we didn’t choose. Careers wind down or pivot. Children leave—or return. Parents need care. Friendships shift. There’s no roadmap for this. No applause for navigating the physical, emotional, and spiritual changes of midlife and no filter that makes reinvention, letting go, or grief look glamorous. But still we breathe and we practice.

Maybe “doing hard things” at 50 doesn’t look like mastering a headstand at all. Maybe it looks like:

• Saying no without apology.

• Facing uncertainty with grace.

• Choosing rest instead of constant striving.

• Letting go of roles, labels, or expectations that no longer fit

These are not always big achievements. They don’t land on a resume or in a social media highlight reel. But they are the quiet, steady practices of resilience. Growth after 50 doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it’s just the willingness to keep showing up—to your yoga mat, to your relationships, to your own becoming. That counts.  And that’s enough.