Yesterday I confessed to a friend that I had a blog. “Why do you have a blog?” she asked…
Good question. I guess I started this thing to have something that would hold me accountable for making it to my mat on a regular basis.
It’s not like I thought I’d have anything to share with the world that would make anyone else’s life any better, and i certainly didn’t start this to “document” my progress of my practice. Also, I didn’t necessarily want this to turn into a completely boring, self-abosrbed meandering of “my ____ hurts during ____ pose…, I couldn’t do ____ in ____asana… I felt tired today… I felt strong today…. etc,” although I’m not so naive as to say that most of my posts don’t sound like that!
No, really, what it all boils down to, is that I wanted someone out there to judge me when I missed two practice days in a row. I wanted to feel shame for staying up late and sleeping through my alarm. I needed a push. I needed some sort of extrinsic motivation to help me through my self-practice.
It’s one thing to have the willpower to make it to your shala every day. That in and of itself proves dedication and resolve to this practice. It’s another thing entirely to wake and roll out the manduka alone to get through your full practice day after day. Nobody holds you accountable. No instructor is there to catch you slacking off. The room is cold and empty. And if it’s in your own house, there are added distractions acting as land mines all around. “I should vacuum. Just look at this floor. Hm. I need to pay bills. That pile on my desk isn’t getting any shorter. Was that the phone I just heard? What if it’s Taylor? I should probably answer it, just in case he needs me. Kula, stop looking at me like that. I’ll take you on a walk later, I promise. Maybe I should just stop after Paschimottanasana. Hm… no dropbacks today, no, I don’t think so.”
I’ve been practicing with my new found friend in the afternoons this week. She is a personal trainer and rents a tiny little studio for her training space right next to My Favorite Restaurant in The World, Tsurugi’s. You can even hear Goshi chatting away with the other sushi chefs in Japanese through the wall. It’s taken a while to adjust to the p.m. practice, and I think I still prefer morning practices, but the room is warm and humid, and it’s so nice to hear another breath next to me, urging me on through each pose. Oh, and every so often, little adjustments in Mari D or Supta Kurmasana. That’s really nice, too. The Other Jenna even joined us one day last week.
More on this later. For now, I’ve got to get myself to look like this: