Reputedly no-one expects the Spanish Inquisition. In contrast, I pretty much always have the kettle on for the yoga police. I’ve concluded that fear of their imminent arrival is what keeps me off my mat, despite desire and determination to undertake my own practice.
It’s knowing that any second now they’ll coast in (with a very grounded yet gliding motion) in a wave of pastel attired floatiness (one of the guys in pink). Lightly bronzed and kinda glowing from some inner source. One of them puts their hand compassionately on my arm and, meeting my eyes mellifluously speaks the dreaded words, “well, that’s not really yoga is it?”
Thanks Alejandra Ramirez
I recently resolved to try to establish my own practice, fueled by the coincidence of the absence of the yoga teacher whose class I attend most often, and a resolution made at a recent intensive with Donna Farhi. Today = day 1.
Not knowing where to start I head for the bookshelf. I pick Eric Schiffmann’s “The Spirit and Practice of Moving into Stillness”, and open it at random hoping to find a suggested sequence. The first lines I read say “Do the ones that have the most lure, the ones you feel like doing. Do the ones you’re hungry for. …This is the yoga…The idea is to sense inwardly for your deepest feelings. That’s how you listen for your/God’s will.”
I put the book back on the shelf and return to my mat.
Thanks to knittymarie