Today I didn’t have have a single scary thought about going to yoga. I was rested, hydrated, and felt much better than I had all week. My class was awesome. The room was perfect and I performed and executed each pose to the best of my ability without even a stray breath or a thought of taking a knee.
Driving home I felt victorious. I came through whatever changes were being made. I’m back, and could finally move on. Upon arriving home I went about my usual tasks of washing my clothes and sitting down with my protein shake. I had a hair appointment in the late afternoon and was busy planning other things to do around it.
Oops. Finishing my shake and a few glances at the newspaper and I was fast asleep in my chair. I woke up, made coffee and was looking to get on with my day. This wasn’t to be so. Even after the coffee, I just wanted to go back to sleep right up until the time came for me to leave for my hair appointment. I dragged myself there and dragged myself home. My body felt so fatigued and lifeless. I was terribly disappointed to find out that I hadn’t beaten whatever it was I was going through this week, despite the awesome yoga class.
And know what else? I didn’t want to write today. I was pushing this aside all day. Not because I had writer’s block and couldn’t face the blank page. The real reason was because I knew full well what I was going to write about. I was going to write about this awfully hard thing happening to me this week and I just didn’t want to face it. When your a writer by nature, the thing is, if you never write it down, it doesn’t really exist. Once it’s on the page in front of you in black and white you can no longer deny it exists. There it is. Right in front of you. All spelled out nice and neat on the page and …you…have…to…accept…it. I hate those two words. Accept it.
I know what I’m learning this week. I’m learning to accept that which I cannot change. In all seriousness did I really expect to do that in one day? Big, emotional upheavals of the heart take time. Slow and deliberate time. It’s a step forward and then two or three backward. This process does not fit in with my nature. If something needs to be done, I like to do it quick and be done with it, then move on to the next thing. This lesson smells a lot like that serenity prayer which I just plain suck at. I’m great at changing the the things I can, want nothing to do with accepting the things I can’t, and most certainly possess the wisdom to know the difference – but don’t want to accept that, either. My mother had this figured out by the time I was five and used to tell me I was the most stubborn thing she’d ever seen. She knew life was going to be hard for kid like me. And as much as I hate to admit it, she was right. The hardest parts of my life were the parts where I was told no, just plain no. I never bowed my head and faded quietly into the woodwork, but there comes a time when each and every one of us has to learn to accept and let it go.
In the hot room, my wonderful teacher Mark must repeat the words “breath” and “let it go” at least 25 times in each class. Maybe it’s about time I start taking him seriously.
And so, as another day goes by, I don’t know about you, but I’m glad tomorrow’s Friday, and….I have written.
Leave a Reply