Saturday, July 11, 2015


For the first time in about 10 days, I woke up and breathed without thinking about my immediate next action steps.

My husband was gracious enough to take the kiddos to the grocery store and they were kind enough to help him mow the lawn.

That left me finding my way to a yoga class.  A bit trepidatious, I walked in afraid that I'd forgotten.

Filling in the circle with my purple mat, my lower back was on fire, my legs were stiff, my arms felt like jello and when the instructor required us to close our eyes and to start paying attention to our breath, I almost started crying.

Breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth, reinhabiting the space between the sacrum and the soul, it hit me, I've been so out of touch with my physical being.

After what felt like hundreds of breath cycles, we placed our hands to heart center and together chanted "om" three times to intone the practice.  It was then that I melted into the poses and like riding a bike, picked up immediately where I'd left off, albeit a little rusty.

This is what happens to me.  I'm a pretty phenomenal task master.  If there is a goal in sight, I can strategize how to get there and activate immediately.  I like checking things off the list.  I live in the future like it's my job.  And most of the time, my frenzied take charge mindset serves me well.

Until my body and my heart say, enough.  We've been abandoned for far too long.  And that was the deal this morning.  Exempt of a regular running regimen or a daily routine with the kids combined with executing big projects and exhaustion, I've been a ball of bueno on the body.

I once had a reading done and the woman told me before she even turned a card that I live far too much in my head and that my body was longing to dance.  At the time, I was drinking coffee and spit a portion of it out on her cards.  Embarrassed, I said, I think my body longs to sleep.  To which she replied, your body is tired of being tired and your mind is on overload.

So, when I starting chanting "om" and listened to the intonations of the men and women in unison, it was a vivid reminder that we all long to dance.  We all want to move freely and to connect to others in the process.

My challenge is feeling a strong type A responsibility that keeps me analyzing and over analyzing all the things I should be doing instead of surrendering in the moment.  To that end, I hate that my spotty yoga practice is confined to an external studio that I have to drive to and transport myself metaphysically outside of my thoughts.  Instead, I wish that I could capture the feeling of breathing in and breathing out, chanting "om" and letting my being dance.  Here's to finding myself more connected to my body.

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