DITCHING CLASS

I committed a transgression this week.  I blew off Yoga class to go thrift store shopping.  I fully intended to go to Yoga; really, I did!  I met a friend for an early breakfast, as we do just about every week.  Typically, we talk and laugh for about an hour and a half, then she heads to her office and I to Yoga practice.  But something took hold of me on Tuesday on the corner of Wall and Rucker and instead of turning right toward Snohomish, I turned left toward south Everett.

I had been looking the day before for a cheap little table.  I have the beginnings of a Meditation Garden tucked into the corner of my yard under a huge old fir tree.  I already have a Buddha statue there, just waiting for a couple of chairs and a little table for a pot of flowers or my tea cup.  I was gripped by the sudden urgent need to find that table now!

Plus, I was hyped up on maybe too much caffeine (two cups instead of my usual one) and I'd forgotten my Yoga mat at home, so I'd have to use a studio mat.  And it was only Tuesday…I had all the rest of the week to go to Yoga…. yadda, yadda, yadda.

Isn't it funny how the mind will pull out all the stops sometimes to pull us off course?  I'm still struggling a little with the guilt of giving in to the temptation to shop rather than practice.  I can hear Karen's occasional "missed class" admonishments about forgiving illness or travel…but not sloth.  Oh dear.

Well, the good news is I found the perfect little table at Value Village and I put a coat of chalk paint on it and it looks fab!  I also found a couple of comfy, rather straight-backed, perfect-for- meditation-lawn chairs on sale at Fred Meyer.  Yay!

I spent much of the rest of the afternoon stooped into a Forward Bend, occasionally a Downward Facing Dog, very often a Drafting Table, with much contemplation in Prayer Squat as I pulled weeds amongst the perennials.  In the evening I joined my Red Dragon maple in Tree Pose, in a pranayama practice of perfectly synchronized O2 and CO2 exchange; at one with nature.

So, I'm reminded again that guilt is a useless time-waster and is only the pastime of a judging mind thrashing about for something to criticize.  Hey, Mind!  Guess what?  Yoga is everywhere, all the time, even in the beauty of a battered table made new, the creation of a place of refuge, bowing to the bees and butterflies along a flowering garden path.

The practice doesn't begin or end at the studio door.  But  the studio does enliven and motivate and teach us how to mindfully take the practice out into the world.  For that I'm grateful.  For that I come back to practice, over and over and over. ©

Namaste....donnajurene