As with all things in life, it’s easy to fall into a routine. When in a routine, it’s easy to forget important things. I don’t mean forgetting your car keys or forgetting to pick up milk, I mean things of real worth: your commitment to certain values, morals, or ways of living. I am committed to actively experiencing and expressing gratitude, and routines aren’t exactly fodder for gratitude. Routines cause me to slip into a daze of days. I’m not as awake to each moment as I wish to be.
I’ve been here on the island long enough to fall into a routine. I wake up almost every morning during the window of 6:30am to 7:00am. I wake up naturally to the sounds of the ocean and to the sounds of the jungle. The first thing I register when stirring from slumber is the crash of the waves on the shore. I slowly get dressed and perform a few sundry “human” morning activities, using the restroom, brushing the teeth, etc. Then I make my way to the yoga hall, about a five minute walk from my tent.
I start by sweeping the omnipresent sand from the wooden floorboards, and then laying the mats down. I meditate for a few minutes before class begins to ground myself to my mat. This, unfortunately, has started to feel a bit routine to me. Same thing day in and day out, with different students of course as the resort’s clients ebb and flow. But routine nonetheless.
I’m not saying I don’t feel present in the class, or present with my students, but I didn’t notice that my gratitude for this experience, and for this incredible yoga hall tucked in the jungle mere meters from the ocean’s shore, has waned a great deal from when I first arrived. That’s quite normal, of course. As things become routine, the novelty disappears, and so does the awe. Call me crazy, but I don’t like it when that happens. I want to experience and express as much awe, and gratitude, and yumminess as I can. Yumminess? Yes, yumminess. All that juicy awesomeness that comes along with loving your life.
Thus, when in the middle of yet another sunrise salutation, a gecko crawled down the wall and joined our yoga class, I was shook out of my now somewhat normal routine of my morning yoga class, right back into gratitude. The gecko stayed where he was for the rest of the yoga class, and after class we all walked over to him to greet him and get a closer look. The little guy was about the size of a king-size snickers bar and had the most surprised eyes. Our little observer, was one precious gem of a reminder that there is novelty in every day, sometimes you just have to look in the corners.
