Today, a full-on, 1.5 hour routine at home is on the schedule. I finally feel like I can move freely again – it’s amazing how soreness from one activity can morph over three days – and owe it to myself to start paying for a month of laziness.
I’ve started numbering days, because I figure I am on a journey for this. I’m not sure what I am looking for, and I’m not sure how it will manifest, but I know I need something in my life. Yoga seems to be the diving board, and making it a daily habit seems important.
When I first started practicing, I dedicated every practice to something… mostly the concepts of grace and strength, sometimes to a person who was struggling even more than myself at the time. After a while, I started forgetting to do that, and it seems now that the practice was less powerful when I did. I think that is why I allowed myself to stop temporarily. It’s a little hard to know for sure, since I don’t have anything written about it; thus the numbering of days in my post titles. It’s not about counting; just about a point of reference for later reflection.
