The 5:45 AM experience

Getting up for the 5:45 AM yoga classes was hard for me.

The anxiety would begin the night before. I would dread it. I would try and think of excuses on how to get out of it. I would wake up at 2 AM and panic, “Is it time yet?” I would worry that I wouldn’t get enough sleep. I would begin the suffering the night before! Then in class, I would tell myself, “This sucks, this sucks, this sucks.”

I realized that my anticipation was blocking presence. I was not available to reality as long as I insisted on my own version of it. A Course in Miracles says that judgment blinds us. That is what was happening to me. I was judging the future and blind to what was real. All I could see was my version, my prediction. I was going to war against reality. My victory in this “war” was being “right.” The early morning class did suck and I did feel terrible. And my reward for being “right” was suffering. Somehow I realized that this was not a good “victory.” There must be another way of seeing this.

I have found a new way of seeing this: presence. I doubt and question my anticipation. The night before, I say to myself, “Right now I am safe in bed. There is nothing I need to do or worry about right now.” No anticipation, no dread, no suffering.

When the alarm goes off, rather than tell myself how badly I feel, I try to feel what is really there to be felt. I become aware of the impersonal biological process of shifting from sleeping to awakening. I can feel my eyesight checking in and turning on, my balance, my muscles. I can feel the remnants of sleepiness fading. I appreciate the reality of the transition. This turns out to be a peaceful experience compared to me insisting on how bad I feel and how early it is.

Now, when I am tempted to be drawn into words about how early it is and how tired I feel, instead I look to what is really there. It is dawning on me that reality cannot ever hurt me. It is only me insisting on my own version of reality that hurts, leaving me with bizarre "victories" or broken expectations.

Now, whenever I feel anxiety, I try to get present. Even the slightest anxiety means that somewhere along the way I am not getting "my way" in this moment. I am demanding that "my version" of reality be respected. When I get present to this, I see in myself a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum. The anxiety is laughed away.