My yoga practice has become somewhat fitful; reflecting the lack of routine in my daily life at the moment. This is worrying me a little, as I am less than two weeks away from starting my teacher training course – a prerequisite for which was to have an established personal practice. What also upsets me is that I fear it may also be down to a loss of what I like to call my ‘yoga mojo’. I used to pride myself on my commitment to my practice: upon awaking it would be the first thing I thought of and I would roll out my mat without question. At the moment, some mornings I need a real push to get me there, having to give myself a good talking to. To make matters worse, some mornings when I do eventually get to my mat, it can feel like a chore: I’m easily distracted and the practice ends without there having been any real engagement on my behalf and when this happens, it really brings me down. I’m hoping this is just a temporary lull and that as soon as I reestablish routine in my life, my yoga mojo will return.
I know I have not lost it forever; it’s there somewhere and some mornings it lets itself shine: on starting a few sun salutations that positive prana awakens and takes over, bringing me mind and body into the practice and allowing me to start my day in that familiar and welcome way. Last week, on one such morning, sitting on my mat enjoying a moment of peace and sense of well-being, I reached for one of my yoga philosophy books, as I sometimes do on completing a practice. By chance, I took my copy of ‘The Heart of Yoga’, and opened it randomly to a page in the Yoganjalisaram (the section including the translated words of wisdom of the great Krishnamacharya) and the first sentence my eyes settled on was:
‘Never give up yoga’
(sloka 31, Yoganjalisaram)