I pull my mat out from its cabinet and lay it out between my sofa and dining room table. Usually there are delaying tactics of coffee-making, water-drinking, do-I-or-do-I-not-need-to-pee-before-I-start waffling. Most likely I am styled in my finest pyjamas and bed-head and further lacking a shave and a shower.
It’s not all good or joyful. Some days it’s absolutely clunky and boring and I just want to get it over with. Other days I flow and feel incredibly vibrant and alive. I always feel better afterwards.
There are no sunsets or crashing waves. Usually, there aren’t that many complicated postures. I begin with figuring out what my body needs to feel its best and the type of energy I need to generate to ground my mind and claw my way out of my neuroses. Postures, speed, intensity all flow from these fundamental questions.
Sometimes I quit half way through because I’m hungry or realise that the curry from the night before didn’t agree with me. Sometimes I work in silence. Sometimes I chat freely with my partner or jam to lite-FM on the radio.
There are glimpses of open space, of deep feeling. There are risings of energy beyond easy explanation. But fundamentally it is a necessary 30-90 minutes a day that prevents me from being an irritable, overly-emotional and irrational, annoying fuckhead.
As the days of my practice become months and years the extraordinary develops. But that’s another conversation.
By Adam Hocke
Adam has been practicing vinyasa flow yoga since 1999 and has trained extensively with Jason Crandell. He offers precise, strong, and accessible classes to physically awaken the body and develop mindfulness both on and off the mat. His teaching is down-to-earth and direct, exploring traditional practices from a modern perspective. A native of South Florida, Adam spent ten years in New York City before becoming a Londoner. He teaches studio classes, workshops and courses throughout London, and retreats across the globe. As a writer, Adam contributes regularly to magazines and web publications on yoga. Visit Adam at adamhocke.com