I woke up this morning feeling bloated, tired, and stiff. It took every ounce of willpower to get myself out the door and to the studio for the Mysore-style Ashtanga (read about different yoga styles here). Once I showed up on my mat, I thought everything would magically fall into place and it would be my Best Practice Ever.
Ha! “Good one,” my body said to my brain. I went through the motions of the Primary series, but couldn’t focus. If I had a hard time with a bind or a deep forward fold, I didn’t work on it; I just let it be and moved on. My jump back from Bhuja Pidasana was a big sloppy mess. The opposite of this:
As I left class, I confessed to my friend Grace, a classmate of mine from the yoga teacher training at Yoga East, how I had totally half-assed my practice. Grace, in all of her infinite wisdom, said:
At least you showed up. That is what matters. You put the effort in now, and you will reap the benefits later.
Just a few simple words made me feel like my morning had not been a complete waste.