Settling In and Slowing Down

The alarm went off at 4:15 this morning. Even though it sounds crazy, I kind of love getting up at that time of the morning. It's probably one of the only times that the streets in India are quiet, when there aren't very many people out, except for the other insane yoga students. In this country where things often seem to be in utter chaos, the relative calm and stillness of early morning is even more apparent.

It soothing. It's comforting. It's contagious.

Today was my second practice since I arrived in Mysore. Both have been led Primary Series, with Sharath wandering amidst the columns and rows of multicoloured mats counting us through each vinyasa and pose in Sanskrit. Encouraging a slow and steady connection of breath and movement, I've found myself savouring these mornings of led practice with my teacher. In the past I've often found the slow speed of Sharath's count a little bit torturous, forcing me to hold poses that I would normally try to rush out of before completing the five full breaths, or sustaining inhalations or exhalations for much longer than I would if I were practicing on my own. However, after the last couple of months, in which I often found myself frantic with the pace of my regular life, this slowly rolling cadence feels like a perfectly tuned heartbeat; a constant and life sustaining rhythm that propels me forward while creating space in body, breath and mind. It's amazing, and I'm so grateful for the room that he is creating for me, and helping me to create, both on and off my mat.

When I leave the shala, I'm trying to take this lesson with me into my day. I routinely hear his voice in my head, mimicking his continual question from class: “what's your hurry?”

What is my hurry? That's just it. Here, I don't have a reason to rush or panic or anticipate. Here, all that matters is the moment: what you feel like doing right now, where you feel like eating, if you feel like you'd rather take a nap. Life moves at a leisurely pace, and I firmly believe that, for me, coming to Mysore is a way to help me separate from my tendency to take on more than I should; my tendency to overbook and overextend myself and convince myself and everyone around me that I can handle it. Mysore is my wake up call. Better yet, Mysore is my get some rest call.

Now, if only I could convince my jet-lag, time-change induced insomnia to agree.

Everything in time.

The coconut stand:

a great place to take a few minutes to sit, drink, and talk with friends.