The Sense of Plenty

Callie

Dog hair scattered across my yoga mat.
Should I be irritated
or grateful for Callie's presence?

She leans on me.
My back solid on the mat,
knees bent.
I'm reminded to breathe.

The screen is much smaller 
than I need
but I know the cues.
Here.
Outside of the yoga classroom.

Is is more important to 
do the asana correctly,
or to allow my
affectionate dog to offer
and request touch?
With her whole body?!

I know there are plenty of
dog hairs on my back.
And as I pet her, more fall.

I breathe, as instructed,
and lift into bridge.

Just as there are hairs,
there are plenty of distractions.
The room is comfortably quiet - 
sacred, even - but the thoughts.

Plenty of thoughts.
More than enough.
Always willing to rush in
with each exhale.

I curl down from bridge.
Still solid on my mat.
Along with Callie.

Why this moment?
Why does she want this 
moment in the plenty of
moments I spend with her?

I breathe again and
remember there is
plenty of time for yoga.
This class and 
others to come.

I am not sure what to do
with plenty.
Is this a cause for gratitude?

Gratitude and plenty
seem to be intertwined. 
That somehow I must
have the former bow down
to the latter.

But what if the plenty is
scattered dog hairs
on my yoga mat that must
be cleaned thoroughly later?

Or the plenty scatters 
beyond the mat onto 
the floor to be vacuumed
or swept? 

I certainly know there is
always plenty of work.
And plenty of opinions
urging gratitude for 
whatever plenty is offered.

With some firm caresses
and finally a nudge, I once
again have my mat to myself.
For yoga.

Bridge pose is over and 
we are on to the next.
Always reminded to breathe
with conscious awareness.

The sense of plenty and 
gratitude fill my body as 
it stretches around the 
aches and stiffness.
I am grateful for yoga.
I am grateful for Callie.
I am not sure how grateful 
I am for plenty, as it so
depends on what that 
plenty actually is.

I suppose I have plenty of
​time to contemplate that.

---