Yoga
This morning I got up determined to go to the yoga class I haven't been to for weeks. There are various reasons for this: January was wild and wet and not conducive to venturing out; instead I spent it trying to catch up after the chaos of December and Christmas as well as preparing for a two week interlude away from home supporting my mother through a big operation; in February I only had two weeks at home and wasn't in the 'yoga' mood for either of them - head, heart and mind elsewhere; March seemed clear and I was looking forward to getting back into my routines but having been skiing in northern Italy at half term I decided that it was socially responsible to avoid groups of people, just in case.
So today I was determined that I would get back in the groove and get to that yoga class come hell or high water. There was no hell and no high water, but I still didn't get there. I tried, mind. I got myself in the mood by doing some self-reike but that left me a little short of time to shower and breakfast so then I was in a rush (what's new) and ran around pulling together my yoga bag, shopping bags for the supermarket shop I planned post yoga and grabbing shoes, coat, car keys and a breakfast-on-the-go snack (pre-packaged chocolate chip brioche - don't start!).
I mentally draw a reike symbol to ensure my journey goes smoothly. The lane is miraculously clear of horses, dogs, sheep, walkers and tractors, for once, and I proceed unhindered with 10 minutes to do an 8 minute journey. Small Car now with child driving herself to school so fat chance of getting Big Car into the small (and usually rammed) station car park and all the other designated parking areas in the town are not long enough for the 90 minutes of my class. I try the free car park - not a chance, not a place. Finally squeeze in front of another car in an undesignated, but apparently legal, spot and know I'll have to run - and will still be late, tut tut (this is a no-no in a yoga class and it is always touch and go for me - why do I never learn?). It is only now that I realise I have left my yoga bag at home. Really? Ah yes, the perils of rushing. I weigh up whether I can go to the class anyway - no, not enough spare equipment I'm sure - and whether I get on with my shopping straight away or whether I go back home, have a cup of tea and a proper breakfast, make the dog happy, listen to Pop Master on Radio 2 and then just do some yoga at home.
So that is what I did. Except I didn't. I drove home, feeling stupid; tripped over my yoga bag sitting in front of the back door; petted the very grateful dog who had given me the gift of litres of yellow wee swimming around by the sink and seeping under the units and the tea towel dangling down into it and absorbing it nicely. Unfortunately I hadn't noticed it when I first went to the sink to fill the kettle so I also walked in it and spread it unwittingly around the kitchen and then had to wash my boots. So instead of sitting chanting Om and doing Dog With A Head Down, it was Carah With A Head Down And Bum Up clearing up dog's thoughtful wee.
Tea towel into a wash, porridge just made and then the front doorbell rings. Oil delivery. Wanting to know where the tank is. Well, maybe it was a good job I didn't get to yoga after all as I would have come back to an empty oil tank and no heating and no cooker. Then the phone goes. The electrician is unexpectedly in the area and wants to pop up to look at the many jobs I need fixing. Yes, sometimes the Universe Knows Better.
Deep breath and altogether now: 'Ommmmmmm......' !
So today I was determined that I would get back in the groove and get to that yoga class come hell or high water. There was no hell and no high water, but I still didn't get there. I tried, mind. I got myself in the mood by doing some self-reike but that left me a little short of time to shower and breakfast so then I was in a rush (what's new) and ran around pulling together my yoga bag, shopping bags for the supermarket shop I planned post yoga and grabbing shoes, coat, car keys and a breakfast-on-the-go snack (pre-packaged chocolate chip brioche - don't start!).
I mentally draw a reike symbol to ensure my journey goes smoothly. The lane is miraculously clear of horses, dogs, sheep, walkers and tractors, for once, and I proceed unhindered with 10 minutes to do an 8 minute journey. Small Car now with child driving herself to school so fat chance of getting Big Car into the small (and usually rammed) station car park and all the other designated parking areas in the town are not long enough for the 90 minutes of my class. I try the free car park - not a chance, not a place. Finally squeeze in front of another car in an undesignated, but apparently legal, spot and know I'll have to run - and will still be late, tut tut (this is a no-no in a yoga class and it is always touch and go for me - why do I never learn?). It is only now that I realise I have left my yoga bag at home. Really? Ah yes, the perils of rushing. I weigh up whether I can go to the class anyway - no, not enough spare equipment I'm sure - and whether I get on with my shopping straight away or whether I go back home, have a cup of tea and a proper breakfast, make the dog happy, listen to Pop Master on Radio 2 and then just do some yoga at home.
So that is what I did. Except I didn't. I drove home, feeling stupid; tripped over my yoga bag sitting in front of the back door; petted the very grateful dog who had given me the gift of litres of yellow wee swimming around by the sink and seeping under the units and the tea towel dangling down into it and absorbing it nicely. Unfortunately I hadn't noticed it when I first went to the sink to fill the kettle so I also walked in it and spread it unwittingly around the kitchen and then had to wash my boots. So instead of sitting chanting Om and doing Dog With A Head Down, it was Carah With A Head Down And Bum Up clearing up dog's thoughtful wee.
Tea towel into a wash, porridge just made and then the front doorbell rings. Oil delivery. Wanting to know where the tank is. Well, maybe it was a good job I didn't get to yoga after all as I would have come back to an empty oil tank and no heating and no cooker. Then the phone goes. The electrician is unexpectedly in the area and wants to pop up to look at the many jobs I need fixing. Yes, sometimes the Universe Knows Better.
Deep breath and altogether now: 'Ommmmmmm......' !
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