I rolled out of bed at 5:59 a.m., feeling a mite smug for waking up that extra 60 seconds before my alarm started singing. But just a mite, for I was still sleepy and wanted to snuggle back into the covers and push my head back under the pillow. (Yes, under. Where do you put your head?)
I didn’t. I got up. I shrugged into the yoga pants I wore as just plain pants all day yesterday. I wiggled into my yoga bra, tied on my trusty bandana and walked right out of my warm and cozy bedroom with a long list of my favorite shows just waiting in my DVR queue. Not every girl can walk away from a threesome with Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, but I resisted. I had a date with a new yoga instructor in my living room.
Now, I was pleased with myself for awaking in the dark and unrolling my mat. I was still feeling relaxed from my slumber when I began today’s practice with a lovely oooommmm and chakra appreciation. Then my cat pissed on me.
Let me repeat: my cat pissed on me. My cat pissed ON me.
I want to be understanding. She’s in heat and just laying claim. She loves me and wanted to mark me as her very own. While flattered, I’m not into the golden shower routine from anyone, let alone Miss Molly. I cleaned myself and my mat up, took another deep breath and resumed my practice, once again falling into that blissful zen quicker than expected.
It was still dark. Quiet. No one awake but me. I hung forward, downdogged, breathed in and out. I barely even registered Hubby passing by on his way to shower, so involved was I with my NOW.
And then came Otis. This is Otis:
He loves me a lot. He loves me being on the floor where he can reach me, particularly my face, which he enjoys gazing into from an uncomfortably close point. I smelled his breath and opened my eyes, which is apparently Otis-speak for “Please lick my mouth.”
So who’s grosser, O or Molly? I’m still debating.
Nevertheless, I made it through another 20 minutes of flow and stretch and breath, aligning my spine and working up a steady sweat. At that point, I heard the Rooster begin to go on repeat: “Piderman. Piderman. Piderman. Hey, Mom. Piderman. Piderman.” He’s got rhythm, that one. He’s also got persistence, which Otis and Molly lack. I caved. I quit before my beloved savasana.
I felt incredibly rude abandoning the nice lady on my monitor. I felt a little off balance and incomplete at cutting my practice short. But I also knew that even if I set my body perfectly for savasana, I wasn’t going to do anything but listen to the chanting and the panting. My neck would stiffen; my head would hurt; my jaw would clench. This is not the savasana that I yearn for. It is, however, a surefire recipe for my own irritation and ruffled feathers. That’s not how I want to begin my – or the rest of the M&M Clan’s – day.
So what’s my point? Sometimes the workouts don’t go the way we planned. Sometimes life stuff happens and we need to rearrange and find a different flow. Sometimes your cat pisses on you as you’re aligning your chakras and you have to stop your ommm and find a paper towel. At one time, I would have lost my ever-lovin’ mind at so many interruptions into “my time.” But really – a cat, a dog, and a toddler are never going to grasp “my time.” Anger would have been useless…as it usually is.
Instead, I gave Molly a good scratch and pat on the top of her head because she likes that. It soothed her and she left me alone. I gently placed Otis on his bed next to Marley (our other pup who totally respects everyone’s boundaries because he still reigns supreme as Most Wise and Awesome Dog Ever In The Universe). He curled in and fell asleep and he left me alone.
I booped that toddler’s belly. I kissed his neck and felt his warm little arms wrap around my neck. Now, he didn’t leave me alone, but I’m pretty sure he got me to that meditative state I was looking for after all. Some things are worth missing savasana for. Early morning Rooster hugs are definitely one of those things.