My practice is is strong, invigorating and confident. I move with optimistic breaths, truly grateful for what my body allows me to do on the mat, and off the mat. I dedicate 100% of me to my practice today, and with no work calls, emails or Whatsapps to distract me and excite my monkey mind, I find myself in a moving meditation and feeling really really good.
Having walked through confusion for some time now, looking for my bearings in every nook and cranny, I think about what clarity looks like. It has been some time since chaos has become the status quo for my mind, and as soon as Sara speaks those words, I begin to actively seek out, and even crave, some stillness.
While there is the option to practice at home of course, I decide to instead take a rest day, forgiving myself as I would a friend for not showing up because sometimes, life gets in the way, but also sometimes, we really really don’t feel like it.
As a student of tennis, my expectation of progress has been highly biased. From lesson to lesson with a racquet in my hand, the progress is discernible, not just from session to session, but even throughout a session itself. It’s a continuous ego boost; a potent drug with no harmful side effects. Yoga is the opposite.
Directly to my right is a practitioner I met recently at Urban Yoga, and who I happen to have shared a handful of practices with. It comforts me to have someone whose energy I connected to upon first meeting with right there next to me.
To me, yin is an invitation to quiet the body, quiet the mind, and look inwards. Despite an arduous day that feels riddled with potholes I’m unable to avoid, I arrive at Urban Yoga with a smile on my face and a lightness of spirit I haven’t felt in some time.
The practice is thoughtful, more about the how than the what, and my approach is that of a scientist. Move X to achieve Y. Adjust A to arrive at B. It’s methodical and pragmatic and that’s a really really comfortable state for me to be in.
Yin also does something spectacular, which is really teach you about your body, what it likes, and what it doesn’t.
So since there’s no yoga practice journal entry today, I want to use this opportunity to return to a concept I love: that of what you feed your mind being as important as what you feed your body.
This class is a level 2, which I note passively when booking it, and then note very actively when practicing it. It’s hard, or the better word, advanced. I am by far the least experienced yogi on the mat that evening, but I am not deterred. It becomes a true test of inward focus, competing only with myself, but even then it’s not a competition.