My friend has been telling me for over a year to start an Ashtanga yoga practice.
I always believed him. I certainly did.
But life and laziness were continuously in the way of the dedication necessary to achieve such an important beginning.
Last night I couldn't sleep, which is surprising for me because the only people I've ever met who like to sleep more than I do are the porn stars Belle Knox and Caroline Rey. While we were in Cancun, those gorgeous women consistently got 12 hours in. It was impressive.
I finally ran out of excuses for why I couldn't be somewhere at 7 am, five days a week for at least a month. So I did it.
At 6:40 am, I rode my bike the 2 miles over to the yoga studio.
I've been a yoga instructor for over 3 1/2 years now, practicing at least four days a week, for a minimum of an hour a day. But that's nothing compared to Ashtanga.
"There's something about taking a plow and breaking new ground. It gives you energy!"
Kesey
It's as though I've been a confident 5k runner, but now I'm hanging out with the marathoners. I'm the new kid. I'm learning scales while they're playing concertos. I'm so overjoyed that I've been crying happy tears all morning.
The practice was so difficult. All breathing and pain, and breathing through the pain, and then watching as the pain became too much and I stopped. Then clearing my mind of the resentment towards my perceived weakness. Then changing my mind to see it as "where I am today." Not good. Not bad. Only what is.
Tomorrow will be a different day. I look forward to watching my mind and body grow stronger.
I needed this.
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