Inner Brat

I didn’t sleep Friday night which makes getting up for yoga on Saturday quite…interesting. Sometimes, I’m so tired that my brain shuts off and I have a great practice. Other times, it’s a challenge. This Saturday, it was the latter. 

I mentioned that I have a vicious inner critic I call my Wicked Stepmother. I also have a bratty child and she was in full force in yoga. Plank push-ups? “NO way!” she stamped her foot. Balance postures?“Nuh uh” she shook her head violently. The whole class went on like this. She with her arms crossed and a great big scowl on her face. Nothing could cheer her up. I lay in Savasana exhausted from the effort and from dealing with her for the past hour and a half. Was it worth even getting up? I wondered.  It wasn’t until I was home, taking a hot blissful shower that the response came. “Yes. At least you showed up.”

I may have had a hard practice, but I felt gratitude. Gratitude to myself for honoring my commitment and taking care of myself. So what if I fell over in Warrior III and exchanged my usual Wheel for Bridge? I went. I shared space with lovely people. I learned a little more about myself and my process. And now I could tuck my cranky inner child into bed for a well-deserved nap.