In my personal quest for balance, I'm aiming for one hour a week of yoga. It's a grueling class, led by a buff German ex-pat who is both inspirational, motivating and gentle; the best kind of teacher. And all I'm asking for is one hour per week, that's it, out of 168 eligible hours in a week. But the thing is, I have an incredibly hard time getting there.
After having missed the class for weeks, I finally carved out an hour this morning, but after my husband's return flight was delayed 5 hours, causing a babysitting gap for a morning meeting, my day took an ugly turn. From 8 am on, the entire day was running late, causing me to be late to yoga today. As I sprinted from the Gold's Gym parking lot to studio 2, I had to ask myself, was all of the so-called "relaxation" really worth it?
After 50 minutes (due to my 10 minute delay) of sun salutations and poses running the gamut of zoo creatures (turtle? fish? swan?) my blood pressure was down despite an elevated heart rate, I was loose, limber, and ready to take on the world. Of course it's worth it to get 50 minutes of relaxing self-improvement, even if you have to sprint to get there.
What this hour, or fraction thereof, says to both me and the rest of the world is that my health and well-being matters. That hour is at least as important as any number of meetings, errands or other minutiae that fill up our Outlook Calendars. By placing a priority on that - whatever that is for you- you begin to realize you deserve a balanced life. A life that allows for one single flippin' hour of yoga each week.