The background noise in my life has risen to deafening heights over the last few months. It's been such a slow progression, I didn't consciously notice, but over the last two weeks I couldn't ignore it anymore. Family, stepdaughters, school, work and other forces added to the general din until I could barely think.
I have no school classes on Wednesdays, so decided to treat myself to some yoga. A year or so ago I was going to yoga two or three times a week, but it eventually caused me pain in my hips so I quit. (I'm an all-or-nothing kinda gal; the thought of simply scaling back didn't occur to me at the time.) This morning, though, it seemed the right thing to do, and truth be told, the studio had beckoned me for some time.
It wasn't the right thing to do; it was the perfect thing to do. I turned off the smartphone that had only added to my interior noise, slipped off my shoes, unrolled my mat, and spent some precious time just being in my body. Stretching. Breathing. Being. During the final meditation, the savasana, I silently cried, so delighted to have connected with my self and my soul in such a vital manner. I felt washed clean and ready for the day.
I can see a great deal of yoga in my future as I seek balance and peace in the eye of the hurricane.
