Namaste

Today.

One last bow at 11 a.m., a roomful of clapping yogis and yoginis, chocolate treats (dark and bitter) for everyone but me, and my weeklong yoga intensive came to an end.

Though I've been a yoga student for 9 years, this was my first experience with such a focused regular practice. My normal routine is one class per week with very occasional home work when the mood hits and I have some time, or when I want to get the kids doing something physical that doesn't involve them chasing each other or jumping on the furniture.

So committing to coming to the mat for an hour and a half every day for a week was a big thing for me. And I have to say that it was - no exaggeration - transformative. I think of myself differently today than I did a week ago. I'm stronger, more limber, more centered and comfortable in my body. I pushed through the soreness and fatigue and reached some brief moments of both physical and mental clarity, where the alignment was there and I had no thought in my head other than now, and no sounds other than the in-and-out of my breath.

And I want more of it. I want it every day, maybe not for a full hour and a half, but at least for the space of a half-dozen sun salutations, for the minute or two of a perfectly balanced headstand.

Last spring I participated in a weekend workshop led by Anusara founder John Friend (and I will do so again in just a few weeks) and the feeling at the end of that weekend was similar, though the practice itself was not as deeply ingrained after only 3 days. It's a feeling I've had just a few times in my life, as if I'm hearing an audible click when I encounter someone that I'm meant to meet or something that I'm meant to do.

This practice is part of my path. I knew it already, but now I know it.

So beginning tomorrow I renew my commitment to give some part of every day to the mat. I'll temper it with enough generosity to myself to be forgiving on those days I'm just not able to make it happen. And I'll see where it leads.