After a decently long hiatus from my daily morning headstand practice, which probably started when I moved out of my apartment in Denver, I remembered this morning to start back up again. Remembering to do this first thing in the morning is the hardest part. I wake up most days in an utter fog and can hardly remember what my name is until about 8:00 a.m. when I start to become a human being.
I knelt down on the carpet near a wall, fearing I would be a little shaky after so many weeks without practice. I linked my fingers together, forearms flat on the floor in an open triangle. I slowly curled over and placed the very top of my head on the floor, against my interlaced hands. I straightened my legs...and then my body took over.
My feet walked toward my face as my hips moved back directly over my shoulders. Then my feet lifted off the ground and my legs bent them toward my seat. And then my legs straightened toward the ceiling, toes pointed, so that my body was one straight, stable, upside-down column of energy. It was my best headstand ever, and I could have stayed there all day.
I rolled my legs down and uncurled myself from the floor. I thought back to a conversation I had last night with a friend who was wavering about whether or not to attend a yoga class the next morning. Reciting a common tidbit of widsom, I had said "Your yoga practice includes rest." Many of us yogis do not really believe this and view it as a gentle excuse for skipping yoga. But only today, after a victorious return to daily headstand practice, am I a believer.
Where am I going with this? Honestly I do not know. I'm not usually this serious. But I'm starting to realize that a body and soul do not forget things just because one takes a break. In fact, more often than not, the body and soul come back more fierce than ever.
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