I wish I lived my life off the yoga mat the way I do on it.

On the mat, I am totally accepting. Off the mat, it’s a different story.

I’ve been practicing yoga intermittently for more than 10 years, the last few spent going regularly to different classes at the YMCA. About a dozen different highly trained instructors teach 20 weekly yoga classes of varying levels, such as Power, Vinyasa, Gentle and, even, Chair yoga.

And I like them all. Not once have I ever walked out of a class, thinking, “I didn’t get anything out of that” or “I didn’t like that instructor’s style.” Not once.

I walk into the studio with its smooth bamboo floor, wall of mirrors on one side and wall of windows overlooking Lake Cornelius on another side; I roll out my mat, sit in the Sukhasana position with legs crossed, and enter into a place of total acceptance for the next hour.

I don’t judge. I don’t criticize. I don’t check off an internal list of positions I wanted to do but the teacher didn’t include. I don’t feel pressured to do poses I can’t. I don’t analyze the instructor’s style, music choices, or comments. I just simply take in the experience, accepting what it is and not even thinking about what it isn’t.

If I could only live life that way off the mat.

I can’t go to the grocery store without mentally judging the contents of the shopping cart of the person in front of me. I can’t watch the local news without subconsciously playing television critic. And I can’t turn off the tape in my head that evaluates and assesses my own behavior and how I engage with others.

Well, it probably isn’t quite that bad. I don’t carp on myself and the world around me constantly. But during a phase a couple of years ago when I was practicing yoga daily, I noticed a big difference between life on and off the mat.

Every teacher always offers the same gentle reminders: “Yoga isn’t a competition — don’t feel pressured by what your neighbor is doing,” “Listen to your body…and do the pose in a way that it isn’t screaming at you,” “If you fall out of a position, that’s OK — just go back and start again.”

We are told there is no room for pain or judgment in yoga. You can’t do yoga “wrong,” unless you are hurting yourself. You are taught by each instructor to pay attention to your body, surrender to the tight hamstrings or weak wrists, and modify the poses accordingly. You do not push yourself through the pain or “feel the burn.” It isn’t a 1980s Jane Fonda Workout class.

I remember a class where an instructor was trying to make a first-time yoga student feel more comfortable. She told the class to remember what it was like our first time doing the pose we were in, the standing forward fold or Uttanasana. She then asked everyone to come out of the pose and go back into it only as far as they could that very first time … so the yoga newbie could see that everyone started where she was now, that they didn’t start out bent in half like a rag doll. I thought that was a great gesture. The instructor gave the new yogi an opportunity to feel greater acceptance, both by the class and by herself.

Despite how it might appear to a first-time student, yoga doesn’t start with Ujjayi breathing and finish with the Namaste head bow. It begins and ends with acceptance of where your body is that day, what it can do and what it can’t. It begins and ends with not judging your neighbor on the next mat. You shouldn’t feel superior to the one who can’t stand in Tree, or Vrksasana, without falling over and you shouldn’t envy the other neighbor who can do the Flying Crow or Crane, or Bakasana, balancing her entire folded body on her forearms.

I accept myself, I accept my next-mat neighbor, and I accept the instructor who tells jokes, the other one who rings a bell at the end of practice, and another one who chatters like a machine gun, spewing thought-provoking or witty insights like brilliant yoga bullets.

I not only accept each of these instructors with their individual approaches, I appreciate and value them. Their distinctive methods provide a unique experience each time I step into a class.

This open-minded acceptance brings a benefit greater than muscle flexibility or better balance — the greatest result from my “come as you are” approach on the mat is peace. I feel soothing peace during the practice and immediately after. The peace lasts until I start ticking off the To Do list in my head or some bozo pulls out in front of my car. But, on a good day, it may even last through that.

That’s one of the reasons I continue to squeeze yoga classes into my varied exercise routine — so I have that relaxing hour where I strive to be less negative, more accepting, and more peaceful.

If only I lived the rest of my day off the mat like that.

Jaletta Albright Desmond is a self-syndicated columnist who writes about faith, family, and the fascinatingly mundane aspects of daily life. She lives in Davidson with her husband and two daughters. Contact her at jdesmond@bdtonline.com

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