I woke up this morning sorely wishing I was feeling sore. It’s been well over a month since I last did any sort of exercise, and there are several species of ants in my pants by now, I can assure you. I miss running, I miss fitness classes, I miss weights and I miss riding my bike. Most of all, I miss yoga. Not only because it gives my embarrassingly tight hamstrings a good stretch, or even for the half-dreaming state of savasana (the so called corpse pose). I find a certain kind of grounding in yoga, a firmer presence in my own mind, a sharper focus – not just during practice either, but it lingers throughout the day and seeps into all my little projects and ideas. Without it, my mind seems to scatter too easily.
I woke up this morning with one of my least favorite thoughts simmering around in my head. That one thought I assume most of us have, the white noise-thought that is always in the way. It seems we still invite it in, pour it wine, entertain it – but we spend the entirety of it’s visit wishing it would leave. My thought is a very simple, indecently stripped down, ‘why?‘. Like an obnoxious two year old, repeating itself like a broken record; why, why, why? It’s not a specific ‘why’ either, just a constant echo, a frizzled buzz, that piece of hair you see out of the corner of your eye but that you can never seem to grab. It’s not necessarily a negative ‘why’- but its incessant, demanding, pushy. It envelopes everything without allowing me to focus on anything. My mind seems made up of single brush strokes on onion paper, and only when I hold them up to the light together can I see the full picture – this ‘why’ of mine scatter them like pine needles on rarely walked trails.
Yoga usually helps with the ‘why’. It doesn’t make it go away, it doesn’t make it appear less often – but it helps me catch the scattered thoughts whizzing around in my head and come up with answers to it. I woke up this morning without answers, even though I know they’re right in front of my nose. My infamous energy seemed no more than a deflated balloon.
At least the foot seems to be slowly, so god damn slowly, getting better. I ice it and see doctors and massage it on this little wooden massage thingamajig and it seems to be helping. Soon enough I’ll have the trails and my mat back – and with that the focus and presence that makes all the colors seem a bit more vibrant.