Bad at the morning practice
The yogi wakes up fresh at 4am, glides without doubt or caffeine to their yoga mat, and diligently begins surya namaskar with an nimble forward bend. Cue singing birds and rabbits from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.
I don't know if that scenario is true for anyone, but it's certainly not for me. Clearly, I suck at mornings. I scowl at mornings. I don't even mean early, early mornings- this was taken at 8:30am! When I practice in the AM it's not because I enjoy it, but because I know if I leave it for the end of the day - it won’t happen.
Practice usually starts out like this- after coffee, in my pajamas, drooling on my mat in child's pose while I cajole the morning stiffness out of my back.
Some days, once I get moving, I find a rhythm of breath/body and practice becomes effortless, even graceful. Other days, every movement is like pulling pranic teeth. To get my ass moving, blissful silence is replaced with Rage Against the Machine. If things are really dire, it's Katy Perry. Yup, it's kinda gross and I'm rightfully embarrassed. Take it from me though, being a music snob is as fulfilling as being a yoga snob- not very.
Every morning I remind myself what a much wiser lady once told me- nowhere are we promised that by practicing yoga our body will always be comfortable. Discomfort means we're alive. I hold onto that and it keeps me moving.