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Today was an unintentional day of rest. The intention to practice was there, but somehow the day seemed to dance and pirouette away from me. I never managed to touch down and settle into a practice. My mat stayed rolled up and neglected, but in the back of my mind I know it was on purpose. I'm floating in the space between words, the silence between musical notes. Time is at a standstill. I'm in the subtle pause between exhale and inhale. There's a crystallized stillness in the air. I'm hovering silently between yesterday and tomorrow. The unfolding of the afternoon contains a quiet beauty and I'm absorbing it as fully as possible, coveting my last few days at home. Soon life as I know it will change dramatically and I'm clinging to all semblance of familiarity. I haven't left yet, but I'm feeling pangs of homesickness with every premature goodbye.

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Tying up loose ends. Today I'm trying to clear my karmic history, to be forgiven of my sins and born again. It's a day to pay parking tickets and cell phone bills. It's a time for securing an extended Indonesian travel visa, for booking hotels and coordinating itineraries. It's a moment to finally fix my left rear turning signal and get an oil change, an occasion for laundry and organization. Finances by candle light, phone dates with Revenue Canada over tea. On bended knee I repay my dept to society. Now that my paperwork is taken care of I am invited back into the fold, once again part of the tribe, the brotherhood of Man. Finally I am cleansed of my past and granted immunity, a free and respected citizen. I am a number and I am acquiescent. I am a sovereign nation, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part.

Even on my day off the mat I still find myself flipping up on my hands or going into a headstand spontaneously on my lawn. It's a general increase in playing and moving around in my body, enjoying mobility and flexibility, balance and strength. The approach of summer brings a rambunctious energy and a longing to get outside. The future is uncertain but my foundation is solid. My breath has become my direct connection to well being and I'm having fun with it. Now more than ever I find it absolutely exhilarating to be human. I'm alive.

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I'm off the grid. It's a full media blackout. Tonight I'm taking a break from the blogosphere. I'm turning off the machine. I'm reseting my consciousness and rebooting the system. I'm taking the Yin approach to life, letting go and surrendering, giving the planets a moment to align. I've already said too much. I'm ghost.

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Suddenly I'm awake. I'm in bed. I'm thirsty. From the waist up I'm still dressed in everything I was wearing last night. I don't know how I got here. According to the red glow of my spiraling alarm clock, I'm already more than halfway through Saturday afternoon. As I reach for the glass of water on my night table to relieve my parched palette, I start the preliminary effort of piecing together fragments of memory. I remember dinner, surprising my recently-returned friend as she entered the restaurant. I remember being reunited with high school friends I hadn't seen in well over a year, some even longer. I remember laughing and reminiscing at a friends house, coronas and champagne in hand. I remember a nightclub. I remember flashing lights and white leather couches. I remember the bottles of vodka on ice, the 7-up, cranberry or orange juice we could combine with it. I remember the loud, pulsing music, getting my heart-chakra rocked by the deep impact of the massive sub-woofers. I remember the sea of hair-gel and perfume, the ocean of glances in the neon glow.

That's about it.

Finally getting out of bed, I stagger down the hall looking like a haggard pirate with a peg-leg. Finally I'm in a protective hot water sanctuary, washing the city off me. Ink is starting to run down my wrist, the admission-stamp from the nightclub falling into ruin. My head hurts. Back downstairs dressed in fresh pajamas I'm thanking the gods that it's Saturday. My 24-hour ban on yoga might have to be increased. The only yoga position I'll be in today is the side-angle fetal curl. Not too sure about its traditional Sanskrit name. Right now, imagining nine weeks devoid of alcohol seems like a blessing from above. Granted, I'm not mid-summer on a patio or chilling on a lakeside dock under the hot sun, but I feel like I can do without it for a while. A cup of coffee would be nice though. It's not fair. I just want a consoling, warm beverage and I happen to love the taste of coffee. Curse you caffeine. I need to find another warm, soothing, healthy alternative I can start my day with every now and then.

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The Lord's day. Today no yoga shall be practised. I hereby pronounce it forbidden for the next twenty-four hours, banished from the land. I'm taking another self-imposed day of rest, my own personal Sabbath. After a long workday I'm back home getting ready to go out for the night. I'm not necessarily going to finish this bottle of champagne on my own, but you never know. Tonight is a surprise party for a good friend I haven't seen in a long time. It also marks the last night I'll be drinking at all for the next nine weeks. The Vibrant Living program in Bali recommends that each student use the month leading up to the training to experiment with some diet changes, preparing for the raw, living food submersive experience. Over the next few weeks I'll doing my best to avoid meat, dairy, refined sugar and processed foods, and I'll be cutting alcohol and caffeine out completely. It's not that I necessarily want to be chaste in every aspect of my life forever, but at the same time I can't help becoming more conscious of what I introduce to my system. The positive effects of a healthy diet are becoming too blatantly obvious to ignore anymore. I'm interested in consuming as precisely as possible exactly what is necessary to keep this android I currently reside within, my quantum-physical, bio-mechanical, bipedal, electro-magnetic machine, operating in its best possible condition. At the end of the day, if it doesn't serve me it's unlikely I will gravitate toward it. As my body continues to get healthier and more capable, the less self-inflicted damage I want done to it. Amen.

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The countdown begins. Thirty days from now I will be onboard an airplane traveling half-way around the world to Bali, Indonesia. Between then and now I'll be continuing the process of putting thoughts in black and white.

I'm going to start the first day of this challenge by not doing any yoga. At all. Whatsoever. At first I was feeling a little uncertain about not practicing, like maybe the yoga-gods would strike me down for missing a day of worship, but overall there can be just as much wisdom gained from rest. While a plant loves the nourishing rays of the Sun to help it grow and evolve, it equally requires periods of darkness to internalize and incorporate the benefits. During photosynthesis it's a phenomena known as dark reaction. It's an important process that releases Oxygen into the air and it only happens in the dark or at night. We all need sleep. In the modern world it is customary to function in an obsessive regiment, to get caught up in a military-esque approach. While discipline is a major aspect of the yogi lifestyle, it's not the all-encompassing picture. Taking time to rest, allowing the body to integrate and absorb the effects of the practice is essential for growth. My ninety-day challenge made no room for rest. It never entered the equation. It was a ransom letter, a list of demands for my body to follow diligently, without question. Over the next 30 days I want to give my practice a more natural flow, developing elements of recuperation and relaxation. There is more to the story than postures alone.