My hair has gotten much longer. My belly a little fatter. The previous two months have shown me a lot about myself. A lot has changed.
There were many weeks where the stress of my life held me down like a ten-foot Black’s wave. I couldn’t get out of bed. I could barely ride my bike to school. In the last few weeks, however, I have found new energy as some of those stressors dissipated, marginalized, were removed, or I became accustomed to. Then I had this bad habit of loving to sleep. And the day I thought I was on top of it all, I fell off my bike and sprained my wrist. It has been an uphill battle to return to a regular practice.
I practiced today for the second time in two days. Two days. A drop in the bucket, really.
There have been two previous times when I took extended breaks from asana practice. The first was when I dislocated my shoulder. I was out for a month before my loving teacher got me back to mysore classes doing all the poses I could that didn’t have any weight-bearing on the arms. The second was when I started teaching 4 nights a week after my normal 10 hour research days. I had no energy left for my own practice. And so it went dormant for three months.
But it returned. It always returns. Erik said to me four days ago he always tries to remind himself it’s a lifetime practice. It’s true. A few months ago, what my body needed was rest. What it needed was one less thing to do. Now what it needs is action. Activity. More prana movement.
Today was the first time I’ve done a jump-back in several weeks. I didn’t know my wrist could take it. And it can’t- until I’m warm. Learned that the hard way in sun sals today. Sun sals in the cold bottom room of my parents’ house in Seattle. It’s a Tuesday. Second day of practice this week. I’ve vowed to get the weekdays in, no matter the smallness of the practice, and take weekends off. Basics. Just basics.
