A weekend with family. And with a cold. Difficult while I was away to find time, space, or inclination for asana practice. But I did because it’s now weird not to (when did that happen, I wonder?).
Physically I really needed a stretch for aching limbs, but more than that I wanted a bit of stillness and me-time before being with lots of people the rest of the day. Nothing long or fancy. Just enough to reset myself a little. To find my centre and then work outwards from there. All those clichés you hear in yoga class. But in this moment they all made sense to me.
The rest of the day was all about others. Navigating the social niceties of a formal occasion, looking out for where I was most needed, and — more prosaically — trying to stay on my feet and smile when really I wanted to stretch out on the back seat of the car for a nap instead of standing around making small talk. My dad told Hubby I was ‘valiant’, so the effort required didn’t escape his knowing paternal eye.
So maybe yoga gave me some physical and mental resources to call upon. That was helpful, sure. But more than that I’m grateful that the practice of cultivating love and compassion helped me handle the situation more gracefully than I might otherwise have done, reminding me to soften my judgemental attitudes, to focus instead on the needs of those around me offering them my love and support for something that was important to them. Because — though I’m slightly (childishly?) reluctant to admit it — the day wasn’t about me!
And in among all this caring and sharing loveliness, I have to remember that colds, like judgemental comments, are best kept to oneself! Time for more paracetamol, I think…