Peace & Quiet



This past week, I got out of bed at 3:30 am as I have been doing every Wednesday for several weeks. The night prior, I had gone to bed early but also got up around midnight to help my boys out so that they could get to bed after a long work day. To be frank, I can’t sleep that well when they are going up and down the stairs anyway — so I figured it would benefit us all. Suffice to say that I was still quiet tired by the time the alarm sounded. Although I could have dropped my youngest at work (at 4 am) and returned home, I sat around for an hour and drove to the yoga studio hoping for a nice long take-your-sweet-time sort of practice.

With my choice of anywhere in the room, being the only one there, I choose the most isolated place in the room to roll out my mat for I already knew that I was not yet ready to socialize. My practice begun with a feeling of contentment, as I enjoyed a quiet similar to when wake before everyone else at home. About 10-15 minutes later, the next person arrived and rolled their mat out right beside mine. I whispered “Hi” but heard nothing in return. Perhaps she was feeling the same as me.

As the room slowly began to fill, I became more and more aware that my body just wasn’t waking up with my practice. In my periphery, I watched the other yogis flow past me in their practices while my tight muscles continued to ache. I kept on breathing and working through it, happy that the room remained dark, and hoping that nobody was watching the goings-on in my practice. And it was okay… until the lights abruptly came on as the assistant arrived. My body tensed up even more until, finally, I opted to end my practice early. I left the room about the time that my teacher arrived.

Lines



There are days when you wake up feeling stiff, sore, and unmotivated. My Monday was like this. The advice following my morning HRV check was to proceed with caution.  So….I dawdled a bit, contemplating skipping my Mysore Practice all together. Starting on Tuesday, my teacher was due to be away for a week and the following week I would be trekking through the backcountry. I was, therefore, compelled to at least “show up” and do my sun salutations.

Arriving much later than I usually do, I found the Mysore Room surprisingly busy. The rows of mats perfectly aligned in neat little rows like the twelve little girls in one of my favorite books from childhood. My teacher was making her way around the room, helping out when needed, while everyone independently worked through their given practice.

In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines
Lived twelve little girls in two straight lines
In two straight lines they broke their bread
And brushed their teeth and went to bed.
They left the house at half past nine
In two straight lines in rain or shine-
The smallest one was Madeline.”
– Ludwig Bemelmans, Madeline

After someone moved to the back of the room to complete their closing sequence, I rolled out my mat in their place in the second row and got busy.

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