Le Journal de +Louise

I initially created this blog to record my progress in yoga, in travels, in love and in life. And in yoga, in particular.

I set myself up for a mini challenge, I went to classes diligently at least 5 times a week. My body was limber, toned, and my mind crystal clear.

I blitzed towards the end of my challenge, and worked my way vigilantly to ensure that all the classes I took were peppered with kudos.

My favourite teacher is quite generous with his kudos, and of course, likewise with his hawk eye criticism. I used to starve and feed on these kudos; Because in the hot room it is just you against yourself in the mirror. Because in the hot room the temperature creeps all the way up to 42C and the heat singes your skin. Because in the hot room you feed on whatever support you can get, just to will your mind and keep on moving.

However, post 2 indulgent trips and a feverish week threw everything up in the air. My yoga sessions have dwindled down to 2 classes per week (if I could be bothered), have befriended the new starters and retreated all the way towards the second last row. And the kudos became far and in between, and as of a couple of weeks ago, they have completely dropped out of my vocabulary and I let my stripes stripped right off my Lululemon tops.

Last night, I decided that enough is enough. I put my blue mat down, in the skin singeing heat, amidst the other 35+ students.

I was focused. My muscles quivered and my mind screamed out at me in beads of sweat, “Take a break!”, “Kneel down and catch your breath!”. But I persisted. My eyes never strayed from the mirror.

And then it happened, the kudos rolled in. I rocked Standing Bow, Head to Knee, Floor Bow and Rabbit. And I felt GREAT.

I drove home with the biggest smile.

I am now determined to acquire my much loved stripes, one at a time, even if it kills me.

Photo credits: Jon Buch

No wise man ever wished to be younger.

Jonathan Swift

This year’s birthday was a quiet, subdued one. The day was spent at home from work, nursing a jet lag and trying desperately to escape from the heat that is (still) scorching the state.

Text messages from friends and family, some laced with well wishes, and some, would not stop reminding me that I am, indeed, one year older. I have never understood the sentiment of  “The older you get, the more comfortable you are in your own skin”, until, now.

This year, there was no need for special revelations, no sticky party streamers, no detestably sweet birthday cakes and no staring at mirrors, wondering where the heck did the years go. A surprise over indulgent present from Leo and a quiet dinner for two were enough to make me feel special.

If this is what getting old is all about, then here’s to another year!

Much love and light…