Thursday afternoon, at home, in the kitchen.
BF: 'What is for dinner?'
Me: 'I am making soup. Tomato soup.'
BF: 'That's nice. And what else?'
Me: 'What do you mean, what else?'
BF: 'Are you telling me we only eat soup?'
Me: 'At least I am.'
BF: 'Why? Are you not hungry?'
Me: 'I am always hungry, you know me.'
But I thought: I used to be hungry all the time. I think this is changing.
BF: 'Do you have plans, this evening?'
Me: 'Yes, I am going to my Yoga Class at 18.30, you know that.'
BF: 'Ehm, but you are doing yoga in the morning now, aren't you? I mean, you practiced this morning, right?'
Me: 'Right. And I am going tomorrow morning.'
BF: 'Plus you are going tonight? Wow, good job, baby!'
Me: 'Tonight's class is maybe not the real deal.'
Me: 'It is Yin Yoga. It is not that active.'
BF: 'You mean it is for lazy housewives?'
I could not deny this.
At the lazy housewives yoga club, the temperature inside the room was about thirty degrees (Celsius of course as I am in the Netherlands). There were only women and the class started ten minutes late because first we chatted about female stuff. That we did the lazy yoga. It was nice. So nice that I almost fell asleep. And I don't know what the poses did to me, but I had to get up at night at least six times to pee.
In the morning I felt tired, but I knew I was doing my sixth practice in a row, so that got me up.
Practice was nice, the first half hour the energy in the shala was low, but then I felt something shifting and the energy turned up and I got more energetic and before I knew it, my practice was done. I did it, six times in a row!
Later in the afternoon, a table which I had bought for our kitchen was delivered to our home. I was still at work. I phoned my BF to ask about the table if he liked it at our house. He sounded grumpy and he was not at all enthusiastic about the table. His attitude annoyed me and got my grumpy as well.
As I came home, my BF and I both were still a bit irritated and I decided to spend some time be myself (this usually helps me to calm down), and I started reading a book in bed. I thought: Mysore practice in the morning is not at all hard, even when you practice six times in a week. It is wonderful and magic and easy. It is the daily life that comes after practice, that can be difficult.
I took this picture in Ibiza, Spain