I know better.
But I don’t always do better.
Imagine with me that each of us has a unique, magical fruit that when consumed, greatly increases our well-being. We are blessed with an acute awareness that partaking will help us think clearer, increase confidence, and boost health and happiness. There is a bowl of this fruit on our kitchen counter, ripe for the taking, but we don’t.
Maybe the bowl of magical fruit is out of our reach and there’s no one to pass it to us.
Maybe it’s out of sight and we forgot about it.
Maybe we’re in a hurry, caught up in doing other things and don’t take the time.
Maybe it is not an easy fruit to grab and go.
Maybe we ate a piece of Magical Fruit and it didn’t taste perfect. Wasn’t ripe enough or had a bad spot and now we’ve lost our taste for it.
Maybe we’ve simply lost our motivation to move whatever is in the way of the damned bowl and pick up the fruit and eat it.
My Magical Fruit . . .
If I’m being honest, which I always try to be here, I haven’t practiced yoga consistently since we left home for the winter, November of 2022, when my mat and I were walking down Madison Avenue 3 or 4 times a week.
Sure, I’ve attended a class here and there. I’ve faced my dog downward in my living room. I’ve done kid yoga with the grandgirls. I even stand on one foot while I brush my teeth.
But I find myself without a true yoga home. A place where I look forward to going, where my people gather. A place that feeds my soul.
I can hear myself saying about a thousand times, “I need to find a yoga studio/teacher.” I think I’ve been using that as an excuse to not do the work.
Many people have told me they just practice at home and a few have recommended Yoga with Adrienne. I dismissed the notion standing firmly in my conviction that I must practice in a studio with other like-minded people who will occasionally have coffee with me after class.
That First, Delicious Bite
This week, BF and I rolled out our mats in our basement and found Yoga with Adriene. On Monday, we did Day 0 and Day 1 and committed to do the program. It was a getting-back-on-track moment. I moved obstacles and partook. Initially, I was surprised at how awkward it felt. How my muscles fatigued.
As we finished our yoga session and I walked up our basement steps, I felt a lift; things were right. I had taken a bite of my magical fruit and it tasted oh, so, good!
I cannot say why I allowed myself to ignore my magical fruit for so long, but I did. It’s not like my life had been completely askew or that my body lacked movement. Quite the contrary, but something was missing.
Here’s what I know for sure, no matter how much exercise I get, for me, it is yoga that connects my mind, body, and spirit.
Maybe, just maybe, for now, the teacher is Adriene and the studio is in my basement, and my fellow practitioner is BF.