It amazes me how many of my realizations happen on a yoga mat! But here I am again…
Back on my yoga mat at my usual shavasana stomping ground I was breathing my way through a natrajasana twist when to no surprise my head began to wander; this time replaying my arrival to the studio that morning. I had calmly arrived early, was giddy about getting the perfect parking spot just outside the studio which left my car facing the right direction to make an easy get-away, then slinging my overly colourful yoga bag over my shoulder and skipping across the street anxious to claim ‘my’ coveted spot on the studio floor. A flawless arrival…except wait, go back, I missed a step… I didn’t put money in the metre?! I was so drunk with joy over the great parking spot and eager to get ‘my place’ on the floor that I forgot it wasn’t a weekend and meters indeed need to be paid.
How is this possible? The first thought I had when I decided to attend a class was yahoo, I actually stock piled change so that I could avoid having to frantically run into a random store, purchase something I really didn’t want in order to make change to avoid a ticket. Today, my pennies were all set and just waiting to be used.
But the really odd thing about this realization was that, I felt… nothing.
Wait. Hold on. I just realized that once again my foggy head has let me down but it didn’t send me into a total frenzy? My heart didn’t drop like the Tower of Terror and I wasn’t mentally smacking my forehead with the palm of my hand? Nope. Nothing.
The only thing I was feeling was sweat trickling in odd places from staying in a pose too long and total bafflement that I wasn’t over reacting. I did a mental comparison:
OLD SELF… would have bolted out of the class the second I realized the oversight, running to the change room, desperately fishing in my purse for my keys, having to unlock the front door breaking a cardinal rule of the studio, zipping to my car across the street dodging the traffic like frogger, digging the change out from my cars console, running back to the studio keeping my fingers crossed someone hadn’t locked me out, and tiptoe myself nonchalantly back in back to my mat. Of course along the way I would have had to stop a few times in the flurry to appease the light headedness my heart likes to create, would have been panting like I’d run a marathon when I got back into warrior one, and all sense of calm would have fled the scene
NEW SELF… I realized that the peace I was feeling, the workout I was getting and the energy I was enjoying from the sense of community was worth the price of any ticket. I wasn’t going to let a simple blip harsh this yoga buzz.
Could it be I’ve learned not to sweat the small stuff? Honestly, if getting a ticket was the worst thing to happen to me today, I was still in the running for a great day.
Feeling blessed doesn’t mean there aren’t going to be snags along the way,
being grateful is most authentic when it’s felt for the unwanted,
and joy is experienced best when it remains the focus during the crazy.
Joy has become what holds the string to my balloon being tossed around in the wind kind of life… because no matter where the wind blows me, as long as joy is my core, I’m a blessed and grateful girl.
Not only did I relish the rest of the body bending class, I took my time packing up and even stopped to have a wonderful chat with my yogini. I was the last one to leave the studio. I smiled as I approached my fire engine red car seeing the ticket-less windshield looking back at me and genuinely appreciating the extra proof that someone really is looking out for me.