I Did It Anyway

On Monday morning getting up for practice was hard. I didn't practice on Saturday, and took a vinyasa class on Sunday, so that was 2 days off from ashtanga. When the alarm went off at 4:50 AM, I assumed a fetal position and hit snooze. With my eyes jammed shut my mind got rowdy and sprung into action, "NO! You can't skip practice!" and the battle in my head began. For five minutes instead of snoozing, I spectated the argument until my committed self threw the match winning punch at 5:00.

Up and out of bed I sprang into a cold bedroom; the result of a very windy night and a partially open window. Searching for and finding a pair of long pants, I hit the living room. I powered up the laptop and looked for my practice mat. I have two, my black mat which I finally invested in for practice, and a lovingly worn second mat that I use now exclusively for teaching. The black mat was no where in sight, but my teaching mat sat lovingly rolled up on the bench. "NO!" my mind shouted again insisting that I shun my teaching mat because it's thinner and doesn't offer enough of a buffer between my wrists and the thick padded carpet. I'd strained my wrists before using that mat and almost gave up practicing at home until I got the black mat. "Where IS it?" I asked no one.

Rewind to Sunday - early morning yoga private, vinyasa class, coffee with Monika, the mall for a new blender (see previous blog) and finally the decision to bring the blender inside and not make a second trip to get my mat. "DARN!" The time was 5:15. My mind ignored the clock and continued to argue the case on both sides, "Go to the car and get your mat Jessica. You crazy? It's cold in that garage! But your wrists, remember? Your mat is going to feel like a sheet of ice! It's almost 5:20..." The argument against going to my car was compelling and with a snap of healthy wrists I unrolled my teaching mat.

In all of this, I didn't feed Mona Lisa first like usual and her incessant plea for sustenance degraded to obstinate behavior. Mona wasn't starving, just operating in her morning ritual. I apologized to her and acquiesced to her weaving between my arms and legs. As if all of this weren't enough, in vinyasa class on Sunday, I pushed a few postures for goodness knows why. I yelped aloud surprising myself in half bound forward fold and immediately came out of the posture. The medial meniscus tear I had last year was clearly aggravated. Note to self; get it together. Other physical observations arose as well such as how much tighter I was at the beginning of practice after having missed two days. Finally my mind settled and instead of reacting, became intuitive. Without another thought I modified throughout floor sequence and sat with the discomfort; a stark reminder of how I'd forgotten myself.

Despite all the reasons why I should have stayed curled up in bed until 6 AM, I felt pliable and gunk-free after having gotten up anyway. Monday morning was a necessary and I must add repeated lesson on commitment, compromise, resolve and compassion; it was all worth every moment. Namaste.