The laziest yogi I know

Yep, that would be me.

Yesterday I finally made it to my mat, determined to finally give myself, treat myself to, a thorough workout. I haven't really felt my best since becoming ill a couple of weeks ago (see - my excuses are already showing their ugly faces...), so right off the bat I promised myself to focus more on flexibility rather than strength.

Maybe it's because I was trying to undo the knots and release the tension that had built up in my muscles throughout the week; anyway, the demons who battle my willpower, much like the orcs from "The Lord of the Rings" demolishing anything that crosses their path, emerged with a vengeance from their lairs of distress buried deep in the darkest corners of my mind. The havoc they wreaked on my concentration at times was so nasty that I had to on several occasions deviate from my flow, pull over to the side, put on the brakes, and try to re-center myself in Child's pose .

OK, maybe I'm being a little melodramatic. In all honesty, I made it through in one piece. I am grateful to be reminded that yoga isn't about always perfoming feats of great strength (as those who celebrate Festivus might endeavor upon). All too often it is way too easy to get into a mindset where one might start believing that focusing primarily on the breath or gently nudging at your limits in order to find a new range of motion without the added latic acid buildup in one's muscles is the same thing as wimping out.

Yesterday's practice was in fact much tougher than that. Yesterday's practice ended up being a true catharsis of my bodymind. And it was just what I needed - a purging, a deep-cleansing of my soul.

No one ever said it would be easy. Namasté.