Three-and-a-half years ago (ie, Before Kids), I was a passionate yogi. I practiced regularly, I thought daily about my practice and how it was evolving, and travelling to Mysore, India (birthplace of ashtanga yoga) was one of my dreams. Since then, I can count precisely the number of times I’ve done the full primary series: 0. Sure, I’ve tried to come back to it. Repeatedly. I was even semi-regular, for one joyous little window between pregnancies. But I’ve concluded that having a regular, mindful, dynamic yoga practice is unrealistic for the time being. (Check in with me in a year’s time. If I’m not semi-regular again, please be disappointed in me. I certainly will.)
One thing I loved (still do) about yoga is that it’s a form of meditation in action. These days, however, I get my meditation-in-action in different ways. Cooking is pretty frenzied, with one child “helping” and another yodelling in the background. Ditto baking. But look what landed in our back garden today!
Two cords of seasoned firewood. And it all needs to go into the shed (that blue building on the right). Stacking firewood is only very distantly related to yoga: both require a gentle warm-up and no special clothing (regardless of what lululemon would have you believe). Both leave you feeling sore and smug the next day. And until things calm down around here, I’ll take my meditation in action wherever I can get it.
What’s your form of meditation in action?
P.S. I recently recorded two audio clips for the nice people at teachingbooks.net. Want to hear them? The first is a short reading from A Spy in the House and the second is a silly one about the pronunciation of my name. Hope you enjoy!