Most days, I can’t wait to get on my yoga mat. But today I was feeling sluggish. It’s been grey skies and rain, and all I really wanted was to come home and snuggle under the covers with some hot chai, a good book, and Mia curled up on my feet. Mia is my kitty cat, by the way. I can count on her to be up for a nap on top of blanketed feet.
I don’t like how I feel when I don’t practice, though. So to get myself on the mat when I’m feeling this way, my body makes a deal with my brain. Sometimes the body can be talked into 45 minutes. Sometimes just 30. Whatever is decided, I get in some practice, and I’m always glad I did it.
Today I wanted to practice the full primary series, but all sorts of random thoughts and excuses were bouncing around in my head, such as:
1.5 hours seems soooooo long.
It’s cold and rainy.
Did I mention that the cat purrs when she’s curled up on my feet?
I’m so tired I’ll fall over in sirshasana.
I worked out earlier today; my body needs rest.
There’s that thing I need to do with the stuff. It’s urgent.
Rather than let myself dwell on these excuses, I decided to just get on the mat and take it one asana at a time. During the practice, I resisted my usual urge to think about how many more asanas were still before me (”I’m only at navasana? I’ve got, like, lots more asanas still to go…”). I let myself explore and enjoy each posture, and I finished the primary series.
When we’re overwhelmed by goal, it’s not that the goal is unrealistic, it’s that focusing on the big picture can make us want to give up before we even start.
This is when micro-goals are useful. If you think of a staircase, getting to the top of the stairs requires a certain number of steps. Similarly, a big goal can be broken down into smaller steps. Once you’ve done that, just focus on the next step, not the top or the third step coming up.
Sometimes, when the larger goal seems too big, being shortsighted can be a good thing.