The Reward is the Journey

And the summer season is underway... With a delicious 4 loops of a kilometer course* in the sunshine with the majestic swans in a reservoir in a beautiful spot in South Yorkshire. How happy I was, enjoying the sun on my back, and spotting an elegant pike in the depths, just before cramp cruelly caught me out (rendering both legs next to useless). Sometimes the most important thing to know is when you've reached your limits. And so to surrender... After a brief exchange with a friendly kayaker out on the water for exactly this purpose, and paddling close by me at precisely the moment cramp struck, the safety boat was summoned and I was 'rewarded' with a scenic boat trip and an exit from the water far less serene than my entrance 1h 45mins earlier... An instructive event (note to Self: don't scrimp on brekkie) made possible by a wonderful team of volunteers whose work in putting on events such as this one mean a very great deal to me. Whilst recorded as a DNF, I'll ta...

The sun had put its hat on. And it was as though everyone came out to play. The Lido was hectic. I'm not sure why this took me by surprise. It was the first Saturday morning that the temperature could lure out even the most part time of swimmers. I am anything but a part time aquatic enthusiast. But I mistimed this swim by a mile. As I surveyed the chaos, two other regulars (already sensibly swum out) greeted me and we remarked upon the influx of wetsuit clad 'seals' who have most likely only now emerged from warmer climes (indoor heated pools).  I almost talked myself out of the swim. I'm so glad I didn't; I exited the chatter rather abruptly and quickly got changed. Before getting in, I checked in with a friendly lifeguard I have come to know over the less clement months during which I've swum length after length, week in week out. She observed how little 'etiquette' was on display in the water, and I resolved to simply see how it wen...

Cancer has no respect.  She cares not at all about plans or dreams. She barges in whenever she pleases and takes pleasure in doing so with only the minimum of warning.   She has made her presence known once more... This patient knows her body well.  The unwelcome warning signs were recognised and acted upon.  Fast.  There is an action plan.  Boom. Cancer doesn't like a plan.  Cancer is disorganised and chaotic.  This patient has resources aplenty.  Cancer is to be pushed to the max, and hopefully zapped into the middle distance.  

Teaching with Sarah was something I had been looking forward to for some time... The idea came about a little while back, when Sarah returned from India having completed her yoga teacher training. The theme came to us without much need for deliberation. Life has thrown plenty at both of us recently and we have found ourselves staying close (rather than clinging) to 'Let Go' as something of a mantra... For me, teaching on a Saturday involves letting go of several things: my typical routine gets adjusted. The same is I know true for most who attend the weekend workshops: we let go of things in order to come along. Attending is a choice. Choice involves sacrifice. And that's worth acknowledging.  The hatha based practice was just what I needed. My body welcomed it. And has reminded me of it since (thanks, Sarah!). Moving before sitting seems to work well for most bodies.  Ajahn Chah's statement makes sense:  If you let go a little, you will ...

I have flirted with many.  I have dipped my toe in, and tested them for size.  But this weekend, I met my match. I have, I think, found a style of yoga that really speaks to me.  And, even better, I have found my tribe.  I spent this weekend, surrounded by others who speak my language:  Ours is the language of xi, fascia, meridians and Sanskrit.   Yin prioritises function over aesthetics.  It is about the HOW rather than the WHAT.  And this is why I have fallen in love.   I am never going to be super bendy.  I have plenty of strength, and whilst I will, if I continue to practice regularly, develop greater flexibility I need to acknowledge my mechanical limitations.  These are non-negotiable.  They are, after all, part of my genetic inheritance:  I was not born to bendy folk.   But within those limitations, I can still achieve a perfect practice.  For this is where the subtle but all important...