This is me, not practicing. I woke up early and began writing, which is a bit dangerous as I can get carried away. Because of this and my cyclical attempts to give up/ cut down on coffee, I had given up my morning writing practice and coffee in an attempt to get on my mat earlier with a cup of herbal tea.
This sounds great in theory, but in reality I lost the mojo, the get up and go to get on my mat at all and there were far too many mornings in which I slept in and squeezed in some sun salutations and a few standing poses in later in the day.
This week, I’m writing in the morning, with coffee. This morning I decided that I had so much to say that I would practice later, which should work out this time. It has been a good week of practice, solid, nothing spectacular, but solid.
The next asana is the most daunting one of all, and it’s not listed in 1st or 2nd series, although it is implied.
It is the asana of getting a grip on my eating habits. You could say it’s related to the yamas and niyamas, which are like the 10 commandments of yoga. Basic stuff very similar to thou shalt not steal or covet thy neighbor’s husband. There is the concept of aparigraha, non hoarding, that relates to my grasping hungry ghost style of filling my nutritional/emotional needs. I am stuck here, and have been for some time.
I’ve tried lots of things, but this time I’m going to start with cutting most of the sugar out of my diet. Except in the morning coffee, that’s kind of a problem. My friend Kira suggested Stevia as a substitute. I have tried excessive exercise in the form of triathlon training, which works fairly well for a while, but there comes a time when you can’t ride your bike twice a week/ run twice/ swim twice/ on top of a vigorous yoga practice and still take care of your family. In other words, there comes a time to face the fact I am using this leftover emotional survival strategy from childhood and it is time to let it go.
I have learned to be grateful for this. It may sound crazy, but my eating habits evolved during a difficult childhood and they worked, they kept me safe and relatively sane. If I hadn’t had food to turn to, I might have turned to far less savory habits. I’ve seen how some of these pan out, and it’s not pretty. So I’m grateful, in my own way, but it’s time to move on.