Last night I dropped my laptop and broke the screen.

In that initial moment, I was so angry with myself for being careless. I was annoyed because it was just another thing on my endless to-do list, but mostly I was scared. I’ve spent so much time building a rhythm with my business that the thought of having to figure things out again felt huge.

But after taking a deep breath, I decided to live what I talk about all the time — Aparigraha.

I usually think of this yama as the practice of letting go, but its movement goes deeper than that. It’s about fully inhabiting the present moment and allowing things to unfold without clinging too tightly to how we think they should go. It’s the quiet art of rolling with life’s punches and continuing the journey, even when the path looks different than we planned.

Granted, I had the night to sleep and simmer on this little mishap. But today, I actually feel a sense of excitement — a lightness — about changing things up.

Sometimes we don’t realize how tightly we hold on until something slips from our hands. I didn’t just lose a screen — I lost the sense of control I thought I had over my work. My laptop had become part of my routine, the steady anchor that made me feel productive and safe. And yet, that small shatter reminded me how fragile those anchors really are.

Aparigraha isn’t about rejecting what we love — it’s about remembering that nothing outside of us is permanent. Our routines, tools, and even our best-laid plans are constantly shifting. When we can meet those changes with a little less resistance and a little more breath, we find freedom in the middle of uncertainty.

Maybe this is life’s gentle nudge to remind me that my worth isn’t tied to a routine or a machine. Maybe this is a chance to trust that I can adapt — that creativity doesn’t live inside my laptop; it lives inside me.

Aparigraha asks us to loosen our grip not only on things, but on certainty.
It asks: can you stay open when plans fall apart? Can you breathe through disruption without labeling it as disaster?

Today, I’m choosing to see this not as a setback but as a small reset — an invitation to meet the moment as it is, cracked screen and all.

Reflection for You

Where in your own life are you holding on too tightly to how things “should” be?
What might shift if you allowed the pieces to fall and trusted that you’ll know how to rebuild?