Fourth Form of Madness

I’m not big on technology, it’s not really my area. I find the hardest thing about teaching a hot yoga class is pre-setting the panels to come on at a future date. So Friday night I was thrilled that at the end of the power/restore class I remembered to set it for my teacher’s early Saturday morning class. This was no mean feat, by the end of the restore session of the class I’m always ready for a warm mug of tea and bed. This Friday I was in a particular mellow and subdued mood so as I chatted and locked up with the last few to leave class, I was also mentally chanting to myself, “preset the panels, preset the panels, preset the panels”.

I was so proud of myself for remembering that I promptly walked out without remembering to shut the door of the yoga room to keep in the heat when the panels came on at 6am. That was until 2.30am in the next morning. I woke up with an uneasy feeling. Something was off centre. My dog snored gently beside me…..he was definitely okay. As I often do when I can’t sleep I mentally went through a class in my head (it kind of relaxes me). It was half way through my mental warmup that it popped into my head, a vision of the yoga room door wide open. Bum! That was not going to be good for the hot class at 7.30am or the studio heating bill.

I was about to get up and drive to the studio and close the door (I blame the adrenaline rush that comes with knowing that you have done something not so ideal), when I realised tromping around in the middle of the night in the middle of the countryside (okay not quite countryside but countrysideish) was not such a sound idea. Instead I set my alarm to 5.30am and drifted back to sleep. Upon which I tossed and turned haunted by a dream that I was only afforded glimpses of upon waking. So I was in a bit of a frazzled and slightly worn out state when my alarm went off at 5.30am.

My dog sprang into action at the sound of the alarm and by the time I threw on a pair of jeans and wrestled myself into a jersey, he was practically doing back flips at the thought of an unexpected but welcome early morning walk. Then I grabbed my car keys and he went into a frenzy walking on his hind legs and turning circles in front of me. My dog loves a car ride and there was no way I was going on that one alone. I opened the garage door and ran out like a shot and waited for me to open his side of the car. Since I got my little orange car (which I have fallen in love with – week 9 and still no sign of a new door for the jeep that was broken into) taking puppy dog for a ride is a funny event. If he jumps over into the back seat, his butt is too large to jump back through the same gap on the way back so it takes about 5 hours to get him out of the car.

Not this journey, he proudly sat in the seat beside me and there we were cruising along to yoga together. It felt kind of cool. And then it happened, my dog reminded me about the innate joy in life. I had rolled down the window, despite it being coolish outside, as I could tell he wanted to stick his head out and catch the wind in his mouth. I glanced in his direction to make sure he wasn’t hanging too far out of the window, and there I saw it, pure joy as his fur was stuck back on his face and his eyes wide and his mouth wider due to catching the wind, pure joy, enjoying whatever life brought. It only took one look and I got it, saw it and remembered it in every cell in my body – the joy of being alive, of having this consciousness come what may.

Often on this journey we oscillate back and forward, back and forward, between remembering, forgetting, then remembering again. It was nice to given this chance to remember again with my dog this time as my teacher. So as I shut the door I had left open and hopped back into my car, I felt like I had done my yoga class already that day and as I drove home to start getting ready for my morning practice, I rolled down my window a bit and let life in.