So what it really boils down to is that I have to do my yoga in the morning. If I don’t, I struggle to fake my way through a few poses in the evening, and that is not my idea of yoga. Yesterday I joined Kath in the land of the tired (stayed up till 1am finishing an assignment that was hanging over me, and then the damn chickens woke me up at 6:30), and I was pretty fried by evening. Luckily I had cleared away the stuff that was preventing me from doing legs up the wall. Waiting for the kids to get their teeth brushed before bedtime, I scooched up against the wall and got into my favorite pose. Obviously sensing the immediate, positive change in my energy, Nadia and Luke snuggled up next to me and put their legs up the wall. They thought it was the funniest thing ever, that I could actually relax with my legs like that, and we all got a good giggle.
This morning I had a hard time getting going. Woke up early to let the chickens out and then hit the yoga mat. (Luckily I was asleep by 10.) The brain monkeys were on overdrive. I am going through huge changes in my personal life right now that are causing me a ton of stress, and with everything else going on, I don’t get a whole lot of time to think about them quietly. So I just let the monkeys have at it for a good 20 minutes, until my foot fell asleep and I knew I had to get moving.
My intention today was me-love yoga. Not “I love yoga,” the way a two-year old would say it. Rather, it was giving me permission to indulge in a little self-love, because when your personal life is in shambles, one tends — or at least I tend — to have a lot of my self-talk be self-hate, self-loathing, self-I-can’t-believe-I’m-such-a-failure talk. Once I calmed the monkeys, I wanted to be nice to myself.
So I indulged. I luxuriated in the breath of wind reliever, in the stretch of the hamstring, in the opening of bridge. Still the monkeys chattered quietly, until the downward dog in the 3rd sun salutation. Something clicked — it’s hard to explain with words — and I connected with an inner power, an inner resolve. That inner strength completely, though temporarily, silenced the monkeys.
When I got into savasana, they started chattering again. Somehow the stillness told me to focus my breathing on my third eye. Shazam! Silence again. I haven’t been able to enjoy the solitude of savasana like that for, well, maybe since last year, the last time I attended Kath’s class? It’s been very long time.
I am grateful how stillness can be so empowering and so nourishing. It allows me to think, speak, and feel my truths. Namaste.