The difference between struggling through yoga and actually enjoying it?

Alignment that makes sense for YOUR body.

Hey friends,

Let's talk about Half Moon Pose—Ardha Chandrasana (ARD-ha chan-DRAHS-anna). You know, that pose where you're balancing on one leg, reaching in opposite directions, suspended between earth and sky, and your standing leg is doing everything in its power not to let you tip over.

Yeah, that one.

Here's what I love about this pose: it doesn't let you fake it. You're either grounded or you're wobbling—and honestly, both are perfectly fine. The wobble IS the practice.

I spent years thinking I was "bad" at balance poses because I couldn't hold them perfectly still. Turns out, that's not how balance works. And once I understood that—once I stopped fighting the wobble and started working with it—everything changed.

Welcome back to the Foundational Alignment Series. Today we're exploring one of yoga's most challenging balance poses, the mythology of the moon god who teaches us about transitions, and what it really means to find your edge.

The Story of Chandra

Ardha Chandrasana is named for Chandra, the moon god in Hindu mythology. And Chandra's story is all about cycles, transitions, and finding light in darkness.

Chandra was beautiful, radiant, beloved by the gods. He married all twenty-seven daughters of Daksha (yes, all twenty-seven—the nakshatras, or lunar mansions). But Chandra had a favorite: Rohini. He spent all his time with her, neglecting the other twenty-six wives.

Daksha was furious. He cursed Chandra to waste away, to lose his light and power completely.

Chandra began to fade. The world grew dark without the moon's light. The gods intervened, asking Daksha to soften the curse. Daksha agreed to modify it: Chandra would wax and wane in cycles—growing full and bright, then diminishing, then growing bright again. Forever moving through phases of fullness and emptiness.

This is why the moon waxes and wanes. This is why we have cycles.

And this is what Half Moon teaches: you're not meant to be full and bright all the time. You're meant to move through phases. To grow, to diminish, to grow again. To find balance not in staying the same, but in honoring where you are right now.

Some days I come to my mat and Half Moon feels strong, stable, like I could hold it forever. Other days? I can barely lift my leg without toppling. Both days are valid. Both are part of the cycle.

What Half Moon Asks of You

Half Moon asks you to balance on one leg while opening your body to the side. To be grounded through your standing leg while reaching in three directions simultaneously—down through your bottom hand, up through your top hand, back through your lifted leg.

It's a lot. Your body is trying to find stability while everything feels uncertain. Your standing leg is working overtime. Your core is firing. Your brain is trying to figure out which way is up.

This is the practice: finding your center when everything around you is asking you to tip over.

Most people approach Half Moon trying to hold perfectly still, to lock into some rigid position. But balance doesn't work that way. Balance is constant micro-adjustments. It's falling slightly and catching yourself. Over and over. That's not failure—that's how balance actually works.

The Foundation: Your Standing Leg

Everything in Half Moon builds from your standing leg. If that foundation is shaky, everything else will be too.

Start from Triangle Pose on your right side. Your right hand is down (on a block, your shin, wherever), your left arm reaches up, both legs are strong.

Now, bend your right knee slightly and step your left foot forward about 12 inches. At the same time, place your right hand on the floor or a block about 12 inches in front of your right foot—roughly in line with your pinky toe, not directly under your shoulder.

Here's the crucial part: as you begin to shift your weight onto your right leg, press down through your entire right foot. All four corners. Especially that big toe mound and the outer edge of your foot.

Think of your standing leg as a tree trunk. It needs to be strong, stable, rooted. Your standing leg should feel active, alive, engaged. Not locked or hyperextended—that actually makes you less stable. Your kneecap lifts slightly (that's your quad working), but you maintain a micro-bend in the knee.

This is your foundation. Everything else depends on this leg being solid.

Lifting Your Back Leg

As you shift weight onto your right leg, your left leg lifts off the ground. It floats up until it's roughly parallel to the floor—or lower if that's where your body is today.

Here's what most people get wrong: they think the lifted leg is just along for the ride. Nope. That leg is working just as hard as your standing leg.

Flex your left foot. Press out through your left heel like you're pushing against a wall behind you. Engage your left leg—your quad, your hamstring, everything. Your left leg reaching back creates a counterbalance to your bottom hand reaching down.

When both ends of your body are actively reaching—standing leg pressing down, lifted leg pressing back—you create a kind of dynamic tension that actually helps you balance. You're not just standing there hoping not to fall. You're actively creating stability through opposing forces.

The Hip Question (And Why "Stacking" Doesn't Always Work)

Remember that Facebook post where I said to stop trying to stack your hips in Half Moon?

Here's the thing: if you force your hips to stack perfectly—top hip directly over bottom hip—most bodies become unstable. Your standing leg torques, your core can't engage properly, and you're wobbling everywhere.

Instead, let your top hip roll slightly forward. Just enough that you can actually engage your core and press firmly through your standing leg.

Your hips will be somewhere between stacked and facing the floor. That's fine. What matters is that you feel stable enough to breathe, strong enough to hold the shape without gripping for dear life.

Alignment isn't about achieving some perfect external position. It's about finding the internal experience of stability and ease. When you let go of "it should look like this" and instead ask "what helps me feel balanced?", everything shifts.

Your Torso and Arms

From your strong foundation, your torso extends in one long line from your lifted heel through the crown of your head. Think length. Spaciousness. Not collapsing down into your bottom hand.

Your bottom hand (on the floor or block) is there for support, but you're not dumping weight into it. You're lightly touching, using it for balance, while your standing leg does the real work. I think of my bottom hand as a kickstand on a bike—it's there if I need it, but it's not holding me up.

Your top arm reaches straight up toward the ceiling—or slightly back if that feels more stable. Stack your shoulders if you can. If stacking tweaks your neck or feels unstable, let your top shoulder roll forward a bit. The goal is to feel open without feeling precarious.

Your chest opens toward the side wall (or at least in that general direction). But you're not forcing it. You're not cranking yourself open. Just allowing the natural rotation that comes from reaching in opposite directions.

Your Gaze

Your drishti can go in one of three places:

Up toward your top hand (most traditional, most challenging for balance)

Straight forward toward the side wall (easier on your neck and balance)

Down toward the floor (most accessible, especially if you have neck issues)

Choose based on what helps you find stability. Your balance might be better with your gaze forward or down—that's completely fine.

I usually look forward or down because looking up makes me dizzy and throws off my balance. The pose still works. I still find my edge. I still practice finding center in uncertainty. Your gaze doesn't have to match anyone else's for the pose to be valid.

The Breath Check

Can you breathe in Half Moon? Deep, steady breaths?

If yes—you're in the pose, even if you're wobbling.

If no—you've pushed too far. Maybe you're gripping. Maybe you're trying too hard to look "right." Maybe your standing leg isn't strong enough yet to support the full expression.

Come down. Rest. Try again with less depth, more support, more compassion for where you are today.

Your breath—your prana—tells you the truth. When it flows freely, you're practicing yoga. When breath is restricted, you're forcing something that doesn't serve you.

The Wobble Is the Practice

Here's what I need you to understand: you're going to wobble in Half Moon. Everyone does. Even people who've been practicing for decades.

I teach this pose regularly, and I still wobble. Some days more than others. And you know what? That's actually where the learning happens.

Balance isn't about being perfectly still. It's about making constant tiny adjustments. Shifting weight, engaging different muscles, finding center, losing it, finding it again.

The wobble isn't failure. The wobble is your nervous system learning. Your proprioceptors (the sensors in your muscles and joints that tell you where you are in space) are gathering information, making adjustments, helping you find stability.

Every time you wobble and catch yourself, you're building the neural pathways that create better balance. Not just in this pose, but in all of life.

When you can stay calm in the wobble—when you can keep breathing even as your leg shakes and you tip slightly—you're training your nervous system to stay regulated even when things feel uncertain. That's powerful.

Why This Matters Beyond the Mat

Half Moon teaches you that balance isn't static. It's dynamic. It requires constant adjustment, constant awareness, constant willingness to meet yourself where you are right now.

Just like Chandra moving through his phases—waxing, waning, waxing again—you're not meant to be the same all the time. You're meant to move through cycles. To have days when you feel full and bright, and days when you feel diminished.

I'm a mom of four boys. Some days I feel like I'm nailing it—strong, steady, balanced between all the things that need my attention. Other days? I'm wobbling all over the place, barely keeping it together. Half Moon reminds me that both of those days are part of the cycle. Neither is wrong.

This pose asks: can you find your center even when you're in transition? Can you stay grounded when everything feels uncertain? Can you honor the phase you're in instead of wishing you were somewhere else?

When you practice finding stability while wobbling on your mat, you're training your nervous system to be okay with instability off the mat. To find calm in the uncertainty. To trust that you can catch yourself when you start to fall.

That's not just yoga. That's life.

Modifications for Real Bodies

If you can't balance:

Use a wall! Put your back against the wall or your lifted foot against the wall

Keep your bottom hand on a block—higher is fine

Don't lift your leg as high—even a few inches off the ground counts

Keep your top hand on your hip instead of reaching up

If your standing leg is shaky:

Bend your standing knee more

Don't stay as long—a few breaths is enough

Build strength gradually in other poses first (Warrior III, Tree Pose)

If you have tight hamstrings:

Keep your lifted leg lower

Use a higher block for your bottom hand

Focus on the balance aspect over the height of your leg

If your neck hurts:

Look down or forward, never up

Don't turn your head at all if that's what feels right

Your version of Half Moon is the right version for your body today.

Your Practice

Come into Half Moon on your right side (right leg standing, left leg lifted). Stay for 3-5 breaths if you can. Notice:

Is your standing foot pressing down through all four corners?

Is your lifted leg active or passive?

Are you breathing or holding your breath?

Where do you feel stable? Where do you feel wobbly?

Can you find center even as you wobble?

Come down. Rest. Try the other side.

Notice if your sides are different. They probably are. One side might feel strong and stable. The other side might feel like a complete disaster.

That's information about your body. Not judgment. Just information. Just like the moon moving through its phases, your body moves through its own cycles of strength and challenge.

Let's Chat

What's your relationship with Half Moon? Do you love it? Fear it? Fall out of it every single time?

And here's a bigger question: What phase are you in right now? Are you waxing, full, waning? Can you honor that instead of fighting it?

Drop your thoughts below. We're all learning to find balance together.

Finding center in the wobble,

Celina