I had the greatest practice last night.  Hamstrings were long and warm and flexible.  Back was supple and bendy.  I was strong and filled with stamina.  Happiness.

This morning I stumbled onto my mat, dragged myself through second series and generally managed to do just the bare minimum, while sweating profusely, feeling shakey and battling to breathe.  Unhappiness.

That’s yoga right?  Much like life.  But I’m committing to it – life, yoga, relationships, direction … everything.  And not to achieve  5/10/20 year goals – that’s impossible – but committing to what’s happening today, what’s available right now.  There’s nothing worse than half-arsed participation, wishy-washy involvement and half-in-half-out contribution.  I know we all do it – it’s self-preservation because committment of any kind is a risk – but I’ve realised that committing fully, bringing the whole of oneself to the party, is the short-cut to the knowing whether someone/something is viable. 

And why waste time?  I may have fiddled around in my early twenties, playing games and enjoying the anxiety of not knowing, of thinking that I had all the time in the world, but with the fact that I am approaching 30 and the world continues to spin faster with a greater density in events and thoughts and desires, there really seems no point in wasting any time by holding anything back when committing to a particular direction.