I come to the studio heaving my gear – yoga bag, yoga mat, my sling bag. I see my reflection on the glass windows – grungy-looking, almost with a limp as I drag my bags. Having a small stature with an enormous amount of baggage is always a sight to see. You see them loads at any airport.
And that’s how I see myself. I’d be traveling… to my practice, to teach my class. It’s like transporting myself from the 8.5-hour metallic rock n’ roll of a regular job and walking into the waiting arms of my comfy bed, my Zen. Fumbling with the studio key, I let myself in and release a big sigh.
Each time I come back to the studio is a new beginning. Though the day hasn’t ended, I can always recreate a new page in my storybook. The past pages are read with various degrees of emotions and I am eager to embark on a journey of new sets of awareness.
I prepare myself for it, for my travel. Not only the studio room, or the laptop, or my mat, or my playlist. I prepare my body, showering as I wash away the grimes of the pages in my job, watching them flow down the drain. I’d be doing a hot class; but it doesn’t matter that I’d be sweating again. A practice begins with a cleansing ritual – inside and out. A clean body allows for different possibilities. There are lesser bumps and obstacles to come within myself. Admittedly, I rather come into my practice, breathing and meditating, smelling fresh than being annoyed with work-smell or any itching sensations.
“A mind free from all disturbances is Yoga “ ~ Patanjali
We have our own ways of preparing for our practice. This works for me. Lessen the disturbances. Our body is our temple, no? And thus, we keep it sacred. It’s a locus in my time I can come back to. Any other sensations and disturbances I don’t need, I let go; else it would kill my Drishti. And I don’t want to be a murderer of my own Drishti.