"How you behave some of the time is how you behave all of the time." Budokon Master Cameron Shane
I practice yoga at 5:30 AM. I love the quiet of the morning, when the world is asleep and cars sit silent in driveways and garages. The music is low, barely audible, setting a subconscious tone, or forgotten altogether, as my mood dictates. And the cat wants to be scratched.
The music calls her. She has me all to herself at that hour, and that early in the practice I'm at floor level as I make my way through spinal balances. And she insists on being scratched.
There are many paths in this situation, but I did what for me I should always do - I scratched the cat. I gave her my full, undivided attention and rubbed, stroked and scratched her until she was curled up purring contentedly at the end of the mat.
Isn't that what we should always do? When a loved one comes to us saying, "be with me!" shouldn't we stop everything and be in that moment? That precious, sacred moment? How long does it really take - I scratch and stroke Jill for maybe five minutes and she is content to let me return to my yoga. I restart the music and begin again. I am not late for work, although my irritated self insisted I would be. I have not had to cut anything out of my practice, although my anxious self insisted it would happen. Rather, I am content too. Purring. And being purred to.
I have had some of the most amazing practices with Jill sprawled at the end of my mat. When I practice at home I am rarely without her. She reminds me to live my yoga, on and off the mat. She reminds me that it is not enough to open your heart. You must love with it also.
