The Hard Part
Recently, I messaged one of my teachers, Emma Isoviki, with a message along the lines of:
“When you are utterly fed up with getting up in the early hours every morning, how do you keep doing it? How do you keep dragging yourself out of bed and onto your mat every day? What do you do at those times when each morning feels like such a challenge?"
I’ve had my alarm set for around 5 a.m. four mornings a week now for at least a couple of years (the other three, it’s usually a more sociable 6:30 a.m.!), and I have to admit that at times it gets really tough—especially at this time of year. I can’t remember the last time I got out of bed in daylight!
So why do I do it?
I suppose the simple answer is that the practice is worth the effort.
I could try practicing at a different time of day, but once I’ve started other things, practice never seems to take priority. And later, there are more people, more noise, more distractions. Although it’s hard getting going, there is something magical about these early hours (I’m writing this at 5:30 a.m. on a moon day!).
The thing is, the hard part is just that brief moment when the alarm goes off. A moment later, I’m up and moving. I put the washing on, unload the dishwasher, jump in the shower, and get on my mat. And things get easier from then on. It’s not the early morning practice that is hard (however many challenges I face on my mat); it’s just that moment of reluctance, doubt, or questioning when those chimes ring.
And then I’m on my mat, and I find my breath, and my mind settles. Sometimes this happens quickly, and other days it might take me a good chunk of practice to feel that steadiness—but one way or another, it comes. And I move my body through those familiar postures—some that come easily and others that take effort, time, patience, and a certain amount of surrendering too. And I remember that it is worth it.
Because the practice always feels good, even when it doesn’t! Yes, there are days when I am stiff, tired, heavy. I can’t find my balance, I can’t catch my feet, and postures that I have moved into easily before just won’t come. There are days when I feel like screaming with frustration as I fall out of an arm balance yet again. Yet, it still feels good. Because this is the one time in my day when this is all there is. Just breath, body, me, and my mat.
That hard part becomes a distant memory, and instead, I find gratitude for this precious, magical early morning time. This practice that helps my day run more smoothly and keeps me calm and steady.
And then the evening comes, and I’m exhausted and would quite happily go to bed at 8 p.m.—but that doesn’t quite work when you live with other people who might like to spend time with you. So we do dinner, and children, and there’s no time for Netflix or chilling on the couch because that alarm is set for eight hours' time… seven hours' time… And sometimes these days, I am in bed before my younger daughter. And there’s that moment of reluctance, doubt—a feeling that maybe I’m missing out on something as I resign myself to another early start. And so we begin again.
And again, it is worth it. You just have to get through the hard part.
Inspired by a post on Instagram by @jenreneyoga. In her reel, she had footage of herself moving into a handstand with the caption “What people think is the hard part”, followed by footage of her getting out of bed at the alarm with the caption “The actual hard part: getting up early six days a week.”