I took the Sunday. To actually rest. I lazed about in my pajamas and binge watched and wrote and recharged my batteries. I yoga’d some kinks out of my shoulders and I ate chocolate chips and kettle-cooked potato chips together with coffee.
Supreme laziness? Maybe that’s what it looks like. But it’s more like the hummingbird image in this puddle of rain and oil and tricks of the light: junk food and yoga and rest and cuddling my dog and deep breaths and Netflix were more than the sum of their parts, and I feel ready to take on the week and soar, for the first time in a long time, I’m EXCITED about Monday.
The best part is: I DO NOT FEEL GUILTY FOR CHILLING. There were a million things I could have been doing (I’m pointedly not saying “should have” here). But I needed to recharge my batteries so I can begin the week fresh, ready to take on all the challenges and adventures that come.
The more we value our time, resources, energy–ourselves–the better we can complete the tasks set before us and accomplish our goals. But it’s true.
I finally did a proper wheel pose. After starting out in chronic pain, traveling hundreds of miles on a spiritual hunch, finding my guru with the help of my beloved Mayanist archaeology prof, and practicing for twelve years: I did it.
I’m healthy. I’m grateful. And I feel blessed beyond measure.
The sea. The mountains. The grass in the park. There is something primal about having our feet on the earth, barefoot.
In yoga, we focus a lot on grounding. Grounding into ourselves, the earth, the ultimate source. Our higher power.
Whenever I’m stressed, I have to stop. Take a breather. Take care of myself. And ground. Let go of what is hurting, binding, release it down. Dig my toes in–never mind the imperfection of the messy pedicure and flip-flop toe stub from the subway–and pull deep from the source. Feel the life in the ground beneath us, the promise in the earth itself.
Wherever you are today, I hope there’s a nice patch of land you can sink your toes in.
My computer, the one that works because of tech support and mindful breathing, has just reminded me that I need to do a yoga video. Funny thing about that: I was just going to blog about how I need to do more yoga. Okay, universe. I get it. I’ll do it after my coffee break with my friend, who is a hooman nurse.
Mentioning excellent medical care, my dog’s veterinarian, Dr. Zen-Fabulous (literally nothing fazes this woman) is awesome. I love her, her staff, and the world map of doggies in Mister Winnie’s favorite examining room. This is the only place in the whole world where my little fur-diva will allow his toenails to be clipped. She’s just the best vet ever.
So when Mister Winnie developed anxiety, he got a fancy new pheromone collar that makes him feel happy. But she also prescribed yoga. Not yoga for him, but more yoga for ME.
Now, I should mention that my dog’s vet is also my friend, and I consider her to be quite wise, (even though she consistently refuses to vote for MY favorite candidates for office…the NERVE…haha! ;). Dr. Zen-Fabulous knows I do yoga, and that it helps my anxiety.
And my dog, in all his fluffy empathetic adorableness, will apparently benefit from my doing more yoga too.
Meds AND mindfulness: a winning combo.
And fellow hoomans, our fur babies have super-powers of emotional empathy—so take advantage of good advice from the vet.
There was a time when I couldn’t do a downward facing dog. Actually, there was a time when I could hardly move my neck, but that’s another story for another day. I found my way out, out of pain and dis-ease, and I’m so grateful! Several friends of mine joke now that I’m way too bendy, but I got there by millimeters, over years. Recovery is the same way–it doesn’t happen over night, but over time, with small changes, made when we can. It happens when we graft new habits over the old neurons and brave one more day. One day at a time, one millimeter at a time, reach for the sky. But remember–perfection is an illusion. It isn’t real. Progress is what matters.