Yoga with Mosquitoes
On a recent trip to the US much of my yoga practice took place outside. We had hired a campervan for most of our time in Florida, whilst there for the wedding of a family member. To have no alternative than to be outside was mostly delightful, especially after we had trained our bladders not to wake us up at 3am so that we didn’t have to stumble in the dark to find somewhere to relieve ourselves.
Yet, there was a time in which communing with nature from the squidgy parameters of my mat became a frustrating chore more than a liberating encounter. Deep in the Everglades we were largely left alone by other people, our campsite being sparsely populated as the high season had yet to get underway. Birds of varieties we’d never seen before flocked and strutted around us, we were even treated to various sightings of crocodiles, manatees, and, wonderfully, a playful dolphin who journeyed alongside our boat out on the lake for quite some time. However, one creature of creation was unwelcome, yet never took the hint.
Mosquitoes, at their height in the twilight hours of dawn and dusk, even took a fancy to my flesh – something I usually avoid to any great severity. Imagine then, my stilled self, sitting upon my navy-blue yoga mat, eyes closed, mind and heart stilled, before… buzz, buzz, buzz. My feet, bizarrely, seemed particular tasty to the marauding hordes, and so my attempts at a graceful transition from warrior 2 to peaceful warrior were interrupted by, well, my own utterances of expletives.
How ironic that in the practice that daily teaches me patience, acceptance, and appreciation for the world around me, that I could find none of that when literally amongst the abundance of creation itself.
To yoga with mosquitoes has become an apt and poetic lesson for me: in which the challenges of the world around me sometimes creep onto the mat – metaphorically, or indeed literally. How are we to find stillness, balance, and a sense of connection to ourselves, others, and the world around us, when we are attacked by mosquitoes, proverbial and literal?
And yet more challenging still: who am I to condemn the mosquito for behaving in the way that the mosquito was created to behave?
I admit, I have few, if any, answers to these questions.
However, I chose to continue on the mat despite my frustration. Perhaps my transitions were not as graceful as I might have hoped for, or my balance not quite as on point as it could have been if the circumstances were different. My mind was certainly more restless than I would have liked, and I found discomfort even in savasana (for which over the years I have grown to truly delight in). However, the consistency of the practice remained, the stability of a continued and committed relationship with yoga persevered through the discomfort. I adapted.
When I first came to my practice, it was through (and still continues to be greatly inspired by) the Yoga with Adriene community, and so now I also remember the lessons I was taught in the Everglades in my daily practice, and so perhaps I “Yoga with Mosquitoes” too.