Me and my mat

My husband just asked why I insist on keeping such a clapped out old yoga mat. I guess it’s because we’ve been through a lot together.

We only got together by mistake because I left my other one somewhere on a train between Brighton and Lewes. I hope someone picked it up and loves it just as much as I did.

We’ve been together in Cornwall, Chalk Farm, Copenhagen and even on honeymoon in Crete. Aswell all those other places which don’t begin with C. Most of the time though, you’re happy to hang out in the spare room waiting for the next practice.

You have two foot prints from a thousand Addho Mukka Svanasana, Plankasana, Chaturanga Dandasana, Urdva Mukka Svanasana and back to Addho Mukka Svanasanas. And a few black marks from writing class plans in flow.

You’ve supported me in Addho Mukka Vrksasana Pincha Mayurasana, Sirsasana, Sarvangasana, Halasana, especially in my less than elegant dismounts. Not to mention a hundred luxurious Vipariti Karanis.

We’ve spent all of our training hours together. Including when we almost split up because you wouldn’t let me hide under you and escape my final teaching exam.

You’ve been rolled out, rolled up and flung in a corner countless times. Yeah, I think we’re going to stick together a bit longer yet. You know too much.

Play time!

This week it's mainly been about rocking out on my yoga mat and everyone I meet. At least to the best of my abilities!

The Sanskrit word for this is lila - play. That’s what I’ve been doing my best to embody, why? Why not? Who doesn’t want to have more fun in their lives. The other day I was visiting my three year old nephew and his mum called him in to brush his teeth. His response - “I’m too busy mummy”. He was too busy lining up cars. I had to leave the room and take a little walk I was shaking so much trying not to laugh.

Man, I want that feeling! When nothing else matters except what you’re doing right now. Not who you were yesterday or what happens if you don’t do whatever it is perfectly. Because really none of that stuff matters, because there’s nothing you can do about it anyway. All you can do is do whatever you’re doing completely, presently and with a full heart.

Be the butterfly

It has been a week of watershed. Slightly ironic since there’s been a lot of water around for a June. There are some times in life when you have to let go of stuff. I think it’s the yoga that’s made this a lot easier than it used to be. We like, as humans to hang on to things, things which seem to define us and make us unique. What we forget is that we already are unique, every inch of amazing us.

What’s brilliant about yoga is that it gives us permission to redefine ourselves, from breath to breath and remember how special we are. It is said that the yogi is twice born, like the butterfly. The caterpillar creates itself a chrysalis and completely dissolves its form to arise as a butterfly. Human cells also replace themselves at varying speeds and are completely replaced every seven years. It’s pretty cool to think that we get a completely new body every seven years and even cooler to think parts of our physical bodies change much more frequently than that. Our blood cells are continuously being replaced. When we practice yoga each breath, each pose, each practice is like a shedding of past habits and fears to awaken to a new dawn a new part of ourselves are revealed and once it’s started to be revealed it just keeps on coming.

The butterfly never returns to being a caterpillar.

Diving deep to swim in the currents of grace

I've recently come to the realisation that I'm tired of being terrified of new things. OK, well not terrified but sometimes nervous enough that I miss out on some of the experience. Looking back on my notes for my immersions and teacher trainings I find myself thinking: "where exactly was I?".

You only get to experience firsts once and I for one don't want to miss out on it. The way I see it is that if I can be mindful in a situation which has a few other emotions tied up with it, I can enjoy the moment and the more I rest in the moment the more and more I want to be there. It then becomes like a spiral (inner or outer, sorry, Anusara pun), can I see the patterns in life where get tossed and thrown around as simply that, yet still hold my centre and find fresh meaning. Then, if I can see these patterns can I see each an every moment as a gift, something to be seen through a fresh pair of playful eyes. Then I'll truly be swimming in the currents of grace.
So, I'm doing what I usually do. Put it on the mat. Challenging myself in new poses, poses I don't like, can't do. It's an experient and play all rolled into one.