The spark

It hasn’t been a successful yoga week.

And tonight I am not so forgiving of myself. 

YES, my life is full; YES, I have been damaged; YES, I no longer have the zest and exuberance of youth; BUT if I were really committed to a regular yoga/spiritual practise, I’d get up at 5am each morning when mind and body are fresh, because there are too many variables in the evening that I can use for self sabotage.

Tonight, after a physical working day with lots of lifting, I showered and fronted up to my mat. 

Dog Pose, Uttanasana, a few gentle stretches.

I was surprised by the heaviness of my body and lack of energy.

Breath seemed shallow and insipid, prana weak.

Perhaps I could have changed my thoughts, refused to listen to the excuses, pepped myself up with motivational self talk, turned the situation around.

I’ll never know.

Instead I took the therapeutic Iyengar path (do what your body needs):

I start with a 20 breath Headstand, then moved into a twisted spinal Headstand.

20 breaths in Shoulderstand, Halasana, and Karna Pindasana. 

These inversions are pure gold.

I then fell asleep on my mat.

Memories of tough, early morning ashtanga practices haunt me.

The yoga burned into my body and psyche, a transformational fire, a sacred and devotional practice performed in the quiet early hours on a pure, blank canvas.

Fast forward 6 years and I am now a bit lazy, a bit mediochre, drowning out pain and discomfort with the superficial buzz of daily activities.  Seeking solace through disconnection.

I have been avoiding thoughts about realising my full human potential.

I have not been working on purifying my mind.

I have not been living with raw authenticity. 

Owning up to this, a spark has ignited inside.

Tomorrow I will get up at 5.30am.

And step back onto my mat in the quiet early hours.