Life started to get busy, more hectic than “normal.” Transition, change and turmoil overwhelmed my world. Slowly, from what seemed like a great distance, I watched my routine and practice fade to the backdrop.
Scheduling did not permit attendance at my weekly Kundalini class. Each evening I found my thoughts swaying me to diminish the length of my own practice; “just for tonight, I will only practice a few asanas, maybe skip pranayama and reduce the length of meditation.” The argument was compelling, as it would create space for ALL of the other “things” that needed to get done. On a few occasions, I even convinced myself to leave the meditation until I was in bed! Any wagers??
My mood was changing; I was irritable, inpatient with the kiddos (full disclosure… more than normal). And yet, I was still present and mindful of what was happening. There was a longing deep down that I needed to carve out the proper time for myself to sit, be still, be quiet and yet I could not force myself to do so. It seemed easier to keep moving, keep doing and to keep busy.
If and when I did sit to practice, it felt impossible. I was agitated, angry, frustrated and the negative mind was relentless! A hum occupied the background repeating, “hurry up, just get through this so you can move downstairs and work, study, make lunch, clean or pack.”
At long last life aligned and I was able to attend my cherished Kundalini class; it had been months! I walked in to the serene space and felt home with a blanket of comfort and calm wash over me. It was so powerful that I was brought to tears upon greeting my guru. With grace I surrendered to that moment.
Whatever your practice: yoga, running, knitting, gardening, swimming, painting, sports, writing… it does not matter. What matters is that you have a practice. You may step away briefly but always to return to the solace that supports your journey and fosters strength to withstand the pressure cooker of life.
Forever student and teacher of Yoga