Feb 5, 2:30AM Wake-Up Call

The neighbors begin making dinner around 8:00.  This can involve the usual domestic bickering in Kannada.  The kitchen window is about 6 feet from my bedroom window.  We are both on the second floor (which, in India, is actually the first floor, because the first floor is the ground floor. And I can never get it straight.)  Smoke comes billowing out, sizzling of curry leaf and coconut oil, the grind of the mixie.  A “mixie” you should know is the world’s greatest blender cum food processor.  This integral kitchen appliance comes with 3 stainless steel carafes: dry grinder, wet grinder, and chutney maker.  I have always wanted to bring one home, but this would involve a convertor for the wall plug and is likely to break itself, or forever alter the electrical health of my kitchen circuit. 

            The goings-on of my neighbor’s late dinner is all good, but for the fact that I go for Lights Out at 7:30PM.  No talking after 6, no food after 3.  Am I a nun?  No, just a yoga student at “first batch.”  First batch, for about maybe 75 of us, means be at the yoga shala by 4AM.

            I have been able to avoid this honor for the past 2 years through an elaborate arranging of travel schedule to arrive at the time of year when the class is full and newcomers are getting later start times. This year, on my first day of practice, I happened to be in a spot next to Sharath’s chair.  He leaned over, and in a conspiratorial tone said” Next week you come 4:30. Some students are leaving.” 

            Rather than my usual face-falling response, I was positive and even thankful.  That was one of my goals this year, to be happy for whatever ridiculous time I have to wake up.  Damn that spot next to the chair.

            But here I am on week 3, and the middle of the night practice is working me over in ways I may not have expected. Other than the obvious digestive disturbances, lack of snacks and dinners, and sleep, there is something else going on altogether.  I am feeling my zest for life diminishing.  As intent as I am on remaining positive, this is hard to do when tired.  It seems no amount of napping makes up for the sleep of the night.  It seems no amount of prayer makes up for the simple, blessed feeling of being well rested.

            So I reflect on the opportunities we all have in our lives at home to get enough rest, and live sane lives.  Sharath spoke at conference this week-end about his passion for the practice.  All these people come here wanting to learn the yoga and he is teaching from 4:30AM until 11ish.  He wakes at 1 to do his own asana before teaching.  This, he says, is something he doesn’t even think about.  It is like eating or brushing the teeth.  I totally get that.  I get up at 4 at home to get the practice in before teaching, and that used to seem like quite the sacrifice.  If there is anything I take from this winter’s trip to Mysore, it’s how lucky I am for that extra 1.5hrs of rest.  And the quiet which I can sometimes enjoy at 8PM in the city of Boston (its not quiet, but compared to here…). 

            It does make me think about the things we let slide in life when we get tired.  I think for the lay person, it is often the yoga practice. 

It makes me think of the vices we reach for when we are sliding.  Here, its food.  Smoking would result in a hacking cough, drinking in diarrhea.  When I’m tired, I think food will give me energy, but because waking in the night has disturbed my body’s natural appetites and rhythms, I don’t digest well and food makes me tired.  I find myself on Ayurvedic herbs, trying to retain a disciplined eating routine, and feeling like I have met my match this year in Mysore.  “The practice,” as usual for me, is not the asana but everything that is required to support the fun part, the asana.

I am looking forward to looking back on this 2 months and reflecting on what one can learn by practicing yoga in the middle of the night.