At last...a personal practice

Five times a week from 8.30 a.m. until 10.45 a.m., Tuesdays through Fridays and Saturday mornings. This has been my schedule for self-practice since the start of this month. Serendipitously, self-practice became key to striking a balance in life and spending quality time between family and yoga practice. I had been grappling with my conscience every time I stepped out of the house for more than two hours to practice yoga. Would the kids be safe with the yayas? Would the yayas sneak the kids out of the house? Worse, would they welcome a complete stranger into our home? I've dispelled all these negative thoughts by practicing while they're in school. The rest of the day can then be devoted to chores, quick trips to the supermarket or bank, managing the household and staff, and raising the children. And come Saturday, I troop to yoga class to refine my practice with teachers. Now I enjoy a sense of...equanimity (love this word) and a feeling of things being "meant to be".

Also, I now appreciate why teachers encourage self-practice. With a regular practice I've become more connected to the primary series. Doing the primary daily has become less routine and more ritual. I have learned patience and how not to rush or push too hard. Every day becomes a time for self-discovery too. With the help of mirrors, I've seen how I still need to lengthen my spine in Marich D, keep my heels off the ground in Kurmasana, and arch my back more in Setu Bandhasana. And oddly, instead of getting that feeling of dejection, I now feel eager and excited to explore those poses further and harness the bandhas the following day. Non-attachment, finally. It can be so liberating! Can't wait to use those "micro-adjustments" suggested by my teacher for asanas I normally had assistance with.

Not all is hunky-dory, of course. There are some pitfalls to personal practice. One is that I miss the energies of fellow practicioners, some of whom really inspire me during class. Another is that accidents can happen when you're all alone. I have a blackeye which I sustained after I fell on my face while balancing in Bhujapidasana. Also my practice venue happens to be the noisiest gym in the universe with hip-hop music blaring from speakers in every corner and muscle-bound men perplexed by my "pretzel practice", fitness regimen and goals. They don't disturb me because I've blocked them out with my mp3 player. Heavy on my playlist are the haunting Icelandic melodies of Bjork (such as the tune below), Enigma and some Massive Attack, some Art of Noise. For now, music has helped sychronise the breath with asanas. And anyway, I will take whatever the universe gives. Om.