My practice has fallen by the wayside.
Oh, something’s happening every day, be it Yoga Nidra in bed before falling alseep, or a snatched moment of pranayama while my son watches a DVD, or a moment of standing backbends at the bench while doing the dishes.
But rolling out a yoga mat, putting on yoga clothes, and doing a sustained practice? Twice a week. Maybe.
I miss it. I yearn for it. I stop for a moment and tune into my breath and feel the groundswell of life within and want to just surrender to the flow for the next hour, two hours, day or so.
But something pulls me back. My son. My inbox. My website. My work commitments.
Oh, I know I’m the one in charge of my life, and I choose what to do with my time, and there’s always a way to fit in my practice.
I know that.
But right now, I’m not fitting in my practice. Other things seem more important. My son. My work. My sanity. An empty inbox = sanity.
I tussle with this.
Some days I’m a-ok with it, ‘cos it’s just the way things are right now, and besides, I notice my breath all day long yo – that’s yoga right?
Other days I despair. I want more. Crave more. Wonder why I’m not doing more. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I make time? Surely I could get up earlier? Other yogis get up at 5:30am. Oh yeah, my son would get up too. I’d need to get up at 4:30am. Surely I could find time at night when he’s gone to bed? Except that’s when I’m usually catching up on work, cooking dinner, cleaning the house. Maybe I could work less? Oh man…
This is just how it is right now.
It will change in time. My son will get older and need less time and energy. My work commitments will shift and change. I will shift and change.
There’s no need to wrap any kind of story around this, any kind of drama. I don’t need to change anything, motivate myself, look for ways to improve.
All I need do is be aware.
Witness my mind.
The thoughts circling.
The ideas arising.
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