Well, do you?! (Okay, not you, my fellow yogis and yoginis. I freaking love you guys. Dearly. I’m talking to my life.)
There are times when I feel like a well-oiled machine. Sleek, quick-firing, and infinitely capable. But just a machine. Everywhere I turn, somebody wants something. Somebody needs something. Every mo fo wants a piece of this.
All do. No be.
Sometimes I want to scream. My high tech nuts and bolts threaten to traject (danger! danger!), putting out the wide-open eyes of innocent bystanders. But I don’t and they don’t. Because state-of-the-art machines are nearly perfect. They don’t break down. They don’t get sick. They don’t stop.
Once upon a time, when people used to complain to me, “Oh gawd. My phone is always ringing. People are flocking about. My calendar is packed. I’m just soooo busy!” I’d always say, “But it’s nice to be wanted.” I never realized what an unintentionally maddening response that was. Sometimes, it ISN’T nice to be wanted. Not in a demanding manner.
The other day, mind spinning after looking at my calendar and inboxes and to-do lists, yearly lists, 5-year plan, and life list, I thought, “Yoga.”
Yesssss. Yoga. Yoga doesn’t want anything from me. It brings me things to look at, to confront, to work at if I choose to. It suggests, it does not press. And it also lets me BE in my body. (I’m never in there, you know, I live in a penthouse suite in my head.) It helps me forget the upcoming deadlines, X’s wants, Y’s needs, Z’s demands, the daily cacophony.
Yoga, I f*cking love you. Thank you for accepting my whole pie as is and not just wanting to take a piece.
artwork credit: thelittleworld.net