Sometimes being a practitioner of ashtanga yoga is blissful. Bright, warm, sunrises on the way to practice; that feeling of freedom and space in your body and mind; the shared experience and understanding you have with your fellow practitioners.

But sometimes it’s really tough.

There’s the dark, cold winter mornings (or if you’re not a morning practitioner there’s the when-do-I-eat-during-the-day problem), the stiffness, striving to achieve an asana you’re stuck on while also practising detachment from the process. The whole process can really wring you out sometimes.

And then you get injured.

And the whole thing feels like it could just grind to a halt.

In the dark days of 2009 in post celtic-tiger Ireland, Suzanne and I were living in a cold, damp, mouldy old house and I hadn’t done a gig for 6 months. We were broke and I could see my breath in the kitchen when I was making breakfast in the mornings. I was nursing torn cartilage in both knees which had been a big problem for about two years by that stage. Even though I was practising every day I really wasn’t enjoying it and I felt like my knees weren’t ever going to get any better.

So I gave up yoga.

I made the decision that I would just do some other excercise (I chose cycling) and I would just do that every morning at my usual practice time. And then I would learn a meditation practice. So, it would just be the same thing right? Healthy (or even healthier?) body and healthy mind.

I was so happy to be free from the pain and drudgery that my daily practice had become. And I really enjoyed my cycle along the coast that first morning.

But I lasted three days.

After three days I missed practising so much. I missed the daily ritual of rolling out the mat. I missed the feeling of that breath in my body. I missed moving and creating that space in my body. But mostly I missed the headspace that I had become so used to over the previous 3 or 4 years of daily practice.

I had become so accustomed to the daily benefits of ‘taking practice’ that I had started to take it all for granted. “Sure what do I need yoga for anyway, all it does is hurt my knees”. I had forgotten that so much of what was good in my life had come about because of my comittment to this practice.

And so there I was, three days later, “ekam inhale, dwe exhale”, feeling in a weird way that I had failed in my commitment to turn my back on this sometimes demanding practice, but also delighted to have made the decision that my life was better with ashtanga yoga in it.

We all go through our ups and downs, both in life and in practice, and for me I had to fully stop in order to truly appreciate what I had. As Otis Redding said “You don’t miss your water, till your well runs dry”.

I haven’t looked back since.