How do you relate to being on time or late?
In my earlier life I was chronically late, always rushing from one thing to the next in a swirl of hectic energy. Ugh, not so fun.
Creating a new, healthy pattern of behavior in my relationship with time has happened in many stages over the years. At first, I was working towards being punctual, which meant that sometimes I would joyfully arrive on the dot with ease, and other times I would arrive in a blind panic, panting and sweaty, out of breath from the mad dash up the stairs because the elevator was taking too long.
At some point during the past few years, tired of operating from a state of stress, I decided to level up again. I began shooting for a consistent state of inner peace no matter how busy my outer life becomes. This means that I choose to move in my body at whatever pace matches my current energy level. I move quickly when I feel inspired to do so and as slow as a sloth when guided. No more rushing. It feels exquisite.
It’s been life-changing to stop rushing and learn how to move in alignment with my body’s energies.
It also means-if I’m really tuned in and super honoring of the pace in which my body needs to move-that sometimes I arrive later than I truly desire.
For example, I love arriving for yoga ten to fifteen minutes early, especially on weekends when the studio is packed. I like to pick the coziest corner, the one without mirrors. Or snag a spot against the wall with room for my towel and water bottle if my favorite corner isn’t available. I enjoy taking my time rolling out my mat, then lying on my back to center myself before class begins.
This weekend I was moving as slow as molasses, meandering my way through my morning routine. As I was braiding my hair to get ready, I noted the time. At the rate I was going, I’d definitely get there later than I ideally wish to arrive. It was a conscious compromise: I wanted to go to yoga, AND I was not willing to sacrifice my new commitment to honor my body’s own pace. I would get there whenever I got there in a state of peace, joy, and flow.
I arrived through the studio door with barely two minutes to carefully squeeze my mat into this weird triangular spot right outside of the bathroom hallway. The glare from the hallway light was in my eyes. The space was so tight that my foot or hand connected with the angled wall periodically throughout the class. I did final resting pose with my knees bent. And nothing remotely upset my peace.