It’s the end of the first day of my yoga teacher training and I’ve got thirty more days to go. If today was a harbinger of things to come, then it promises to be a rather memorable month. The venue is lovely, the staff are gracious, the teachers are accommodating and the trainees are earnest.
(Earnestness is not quite a virtue in my books given my fondness for irony, but if one is sinking a substantial amount of time and money to try something completely new, then there’s some importance to being earnest.)
And in the spirit of this earnestness, I’m going to warn you (my readers) that I’ll be suspending some of the standards I’ve established for myself with regard to this blog—particularly my 300 word daily writing minimum. This has to do with the fact that: (1) I don’t know if I’ll have the requisite amount of mental energy left at the end of each day; (2) I don’t want to turn this blog into a journal of all things exclusively yoga; and (3) Internet connectivity on Boracay can be notoriously elusive at times.
So there may be days when I’ll post nothing but (sutra-like) aphorisms, and days when I don’t post anything at all. I’ll do my best to avoid the latter, but I’m giving myself room to permit the former. And this will be, as they say in ashtanga yoga, my practice of santosha—which is simply the art of allowing things to be as they are.
So let the Jedi training begin.