I knew I needed a yoga practice today. I woke up knowing it. Before I pulled myself from the sheets, it was set as my priority - get on my mat. I rolled through my morning routine of warm water, face, teeth and all the rest of those bodily functions. I read a moving article in the Sun mag, an interview with Bill McKibben - on the climate disaster humans have created here on earth. All the while, my mat was calling me.
I knew I wanted a heated practice and some sweet tunes pumping in my ears. Our small guest bedroom is normally our yoga room, but right now, there's a queen sized bed in it. The excuses were there, a threat just on the other side of consciousness, ready to pounce if I gave them the slightest look. "Oh, the bed is in the way. It'll take too much time/effort/work to get the space ready. I could take the bed apart and move it out. Nope, too hard. Ew, the floors are dirty. Maybe I should just skip it."
Instead, I pushed the bed to the side of the room, grabbed the broom, gave it a 30 second sweep, cranked on the one heater I could access and rolled out my mat. I connected the bluetooth, pressed play on my chosen practice soundtrack and clicked the volume up loud.
A smile moved itself across my face. That smile expanded through my entire body as the promise of music and movement opened itself up to me and I to it. Before I took my first posture, I spent a few moments in joyful dance upon my mat. It was f***ing glorious. The smile grew, shining from the inside out. I still feel it rising up simply writing these words.
As I continued through my practice, singing and humming and grooving along with Mac, I laughed at how "un-yogic" my practice was turning out to be. Isn't yoga a quiet, introspective, serious affair? You don't listen to Mac Miller (on high volume) and do a yoga practice. That just isn't how it's done. That's not right.
I say that - today - my yoga practice was one of the most fulfilling, inspiring, joyful ones I've had in quite some time. I let loose all of the rules, of the right way, of the rigidity and "have-to's". They have no place in my practice or in my life.
That thought began to thread its way out into other areas where I have decided not to do what they labeled as right. My babies were born at home, in the water. They breastfed for just as long as they damn-well pleased and slept in our bed until they decided they were ready for their own. We kept them home to learn and allowed them a strong voice in our family discussions and decisions. We bumped up against a whole lot of resistance and judgment because we weren't doing what was right. For many, our decisions were an extremely uncomfortable experience. Perhaps (and this is only a guess) because they forced them to look, long and hard, at their own. It's easier to point the finger of "YOU'RE WRONG" - than to turn the finger around and wonder what it is in their own lives that they know, in their deepest truth, is not right for them.
Remember that your right just may be yours, and yours alone. Actually, it absolutely will be. And that is ok. The right thing to do is what brings you to life, that explodes your heart with more peace. More joy. The job, the relationship, the house, whatever it is that someone else convinced you was right - may not be. Can you turn it around and look at it and get real with the choices you've made?
What's right for you, right now?
A scary question to ask, but the urgency of the answer deserves a moment of your time. This is your life, after all. You get only one shot. Make it count.