I attend Yoga early in the morning twice a week, and have for the last year. It has transformed my experience of myself. It provides a centering space, clarity, and flexibility that this middle-aged body hasn't seen in a long time.
One of the longtime members of my early morning class, Art, and I were talking on the way out of class last week. I asked him what his favorite part about yoga was. He paused, and then said “The mat doesn't lie.”
This is so true. As I drive myself bleary-eyed at 7 o'clock in the morning to class, I sometimes wonder what in God's name made me think yoga was a good idea. But coffee in my hand, I’m driving there anyways. As I pull into the parking lot, the gravel quietly crunches under my tires, it’s often dark cold and lonely. Quietly grabbing the mat from the back seat, I shuffle into the studio.
Somewhere between the pre-class warm up, the consistent practice that we start with, the movements of the day, or the closing sequences the truth is revealed. If there’s struggle, clarity will ensue. If there’s confusion, information will come forth. Where there is darkness, now there is light.
The news is always illuminating, although you may not always appreciate in the moment what you see about you. During this time you're focusing inward, on mindfulness, on flexibility, on breathing. But there will be Clarity because the mat doesn't lie.
If it's not the textured rubber yoga mat in your world, then where is it? Is it in a house of worship? Is it in meditation? Does it live over a cup of something hot, quietly sitting in a tea house? Is it on a remote trail? Is it mile 3, or 6 or 9 on your run? Where is the quiet space where you get to be with you? These spaces are both sacred and critical.
Spending time being with “you” is the source of authentic inquiry revealing Truth with a capital “T” and at the root of personal evolution.
Your Truth maybe just one downward dog away. Just ask your dog, they know.