The reset worked. Sharing what I did last night really helped. Even if no one had read it, simply organizing my melancholic thoughts and putting out my mixture of exhaustion and gratitude into the universe would have made me feel better. Sharing that post was a reminder that the adage, "the truth shall set you free" is indeed true. I felt freer and less isolated. I was grateful for the friends who reached out to me personally, and for those who commented on what I wrote.
Please understand that the things that were weighing on me have not magically disappeared. I still have grief and sadness to navigate, anxieties to moderate, and concerns that require my attention. But I am also learning, as I touched on last night, that two opposing forces can be present at once. I can have heavy concerns whilst feeling light and buoyant. It's strange and counterintuitive, but with practice in dwelling in that space, it gets easier and life actually feels richer from that vantage point. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me.
I forgot to mention that I did 26 sun salutations in that 15 minute period. And I can feel every one of them in my legs today. It's the kind of ache that feels good because you know you worked hard and the effort was good for you.
I slept all night just as I suspected I would. I felt a migraine coming on, so uncharacteristically, I took my medicines before the headache was full blown and slept well. I woke up feeling free of the headache, but as the day wore on, it returned. I took more medicine, stretched, breathed deeply, and moved through the day as gently as possible.
As I was getting ready this morning, a scene from The Sound of Music kept replaying in my mind. Remember toward the end of the film when the Von Trapps have gone into hiding at the convent? The nuns are bustling around trying to keep the Nazis from finding the family. At one point the Reverent Mother admonishes the sisters to go "slowly, slowly" as they walk to the gate to greet Herr Detweiler.
I kept hearing the same words this morning. Waking up and entering the new day slowly can be a form of meditation. It's interesting to also note that it seems that in slow motion I can accomplish just as much if not more than when I'm running around in a hurried snit. Scurrying around creates chaotic energy. It's those moments when I forget things or waste more time. Moving slowly is gentle and soothing.
I am finding a new rhythm to my mornings and to how I fit my writing into my day. Early morning writing doesn't feel right right now, and so I am easing myself into a new routine. What works for us at one point may not work for us forever, and we do ourselves a great disservice when we force things that do not feel right. My mornings are filling with more yoga and with meditation and that feels right in a way that the early morning writing once felt right. I can sense that I need the evenings moving forward to dwell with my characters and not feel rushed through the second draft. Getting to this place is only possible because I've been quiet, listened to my internal rhythms and what my gut is telling me, and paid attention.
Last night's admission was a reminder that in our weakness, we find strength. We can muster the energy to start fresh and try again. Whatever you may be holding on to, release your grasp and see if you don't find relief.
I bought these beauties at the grocery tonight. They are stunning in person, and I just had to share. May we all stay open to the beauty that is all around us--even at the grocery store check out.