yesterday, at 3am, ezra asked me to cover her up. the blankets must have gotten tangled. she was cold. i snuggled her back into blankets, rolled over, and checked the clock. 3am.
3am has become this funny time for me. if i am woken (by myself or someone else) i can’t seem to fall back asleep! my mind is full. telling stories. planning. fretting. working stuff out. i usually stay in bed while this happens. but yesterday, after an hour of mind play, i decided to get up.
i rolled out my yoga mat at 4am. it was a miracle! i never get up and do yoga. unless i’m teaching. i wake up at 5:30am almost everyday. but it’s to make green juice for folks and get the kids ready for school or go to the farmer’s market. there have been very rare moments when the girls are with their father that i have done some yoga. but not like this. this yoga was more free from self-judgment than i’ve experienced in a long time. maybe it’s because of the auspicious hour? maybe it’s because of the week of morning yoga i had taught the week before? or maybe it’s because of what i said before bed?
i twirled my wrists and flicked my fingers. i laughed and i watched years of yoga teaching roll over me. all the phases i have been thru. all the movements i haven’t taught in a while. poses i love. poses i don’t. i was compassionate and funny with myself in a way i usually reserve for others.
i luxuriated in twisting. breathed into spots where something has been holding for a long time. i tried not to push too hard. i tried not to try. the holding and stiff spots didn’t disappeared. i just noticed them. and breathed.
it was one of those moments. a more clear than foggy moment. a rare self kindness hour.
i am no longer dreading waking at 3am. although i’m not setting the alarm for that hour! but if i do wake and find i really can’t go back to sleep i might get up and roll my mat out again and see what happens.
before i went to bed i had curled myself up into a ball and i had promised myself that i would take care of me. that i would love me no matter what. you see i had been feeling sick for weeks. tired. scared of i don’t know what exactly. scared of death. scared of failure. sickness being a failure (in my stories!) and so i promised to myself again, like a little wedding, to honour myself no matter what. with or without the yoga. with or without the cold or flu. healthy or not. i was going to remember to keep loving me. it’s a good promise. and it’s so strong and deep it’s ok if i break it or i forget! probably a little something like god.
all photos by ally
beinglovely 