When the alarm goes off in the pre-dawn dark of a wintery morning, I am very good at ignoring it. There will be thirteen rings before it gives up and lets me snooze again.
If I am not asleep between the annoying noisy squeals of the alarm, I am re-structuring my morning so that I can extend my private duvet party indefinitely. It’s so lovely and warm in there – with the cats curled up at my feet and purring*.
The inner dialogue goes something like this, “So if I get up at 7:15 instead of 6:40, I can still do a 30 minute practice. I was never going to do that full Astanga one anyway, so it doesn’t really matter if I do 30 minutes instead of 50. After all, I can do a longer one tomorrow evening.
“Or, I could do 45 minutes and not wash my hair. No, a better idea. I can cut down the dog’s walk. No. Wait. I need to do the horses so the dog will be out then but instead of doing all the jobs, I will leave some for Leanne as she said she didn’t mind, and yeah. That will work.
“And if I don’t wash my hair and only do 30 minutes, I can get up at 7:30. I’ll just re-set the alarm.”
At 7:45, I get up. Just a few sun salutations then. But is it really worth it? Nah. I will do a proper practice tomorrow. Leave it for today. No harm done.
Then there are the evenings, getting home from work, via the supermarket and collecting the dog from crèche, and there’s the choice: practice or eat? Really hungry, so, I’ll tell you what, I’ll eat right now, and in two hours I can do a short practice before bed… Yeah, right, that’s gonna happen.
Sound at all familiar?
So, tomorrow, and this is for real, I need to be at the yard at 8am latest to sort out the horses. I’ll have breakfast after yoga and it takes twenty minutes to get to the stables so that means an alarm at 6am – easy – and I can do Emma Henry’s Wake Up with Morning Jivamukti. 37 and a half minutes of juicy vinyasa sequences, twists, back and forward bends – plus a headstand, so the description reads. And it goes on, “Everything you’d want to set you up for the day.”
I know that I will feel better for it. When I was in Brazil for work, I got up for 8am classes – or self-practice – six days a week. Even if I had been out the night before. Every day, however tired I felt, even if I were hungover and sleep deprived, the yoga made the day sparkle from the off.
That, I have to bear in mind; I must remember. How good it feels to stretch and breathe; how my body feels blessed by movement; how my mind is calmed by asana and pranayama.
Tomorrow, this is the cast iron commitment I have made to myself, I have a meeting with my mat and with Jivamukti. Tomorrow, the day starts with glory.
*Why is it that when you can’t lie in, the cats are sleepy and snoozy, dragging you heart and soul back under the covers; but when you can sleep on and on, they prowl around yowling, batting my face with their paws or jumping on my full bladder with reckless abandon? Why is that?
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