I have lost eight pounds. Granted, in comparison to some of my friends who have lost significant amounts of weight recently, this is just chicken feed as my granny used to say. But having lost significant amounts of weight in the past, I know that starting is the hardest part. That's when you have to get real.
For me, the reality was that I had let life beat me up. Instead of looking at life as a challenge--an adventure to be enjoyed-- the way I used to, I began to see it as something to endure. So I hunkered down and waited for the next attack. And to no surprise, each one came, and each time I balled up tighter in my foxhole. Life had gotten hard and scary so I hid. Literally and figuratively. I was a runner through most of my thirties and I ran freely. Joyfully, most of the time. Then I grew fearful of what could happen while I was out there. It is hard to run while carrying the weight of the world on your back. I learned that the quickest way to lose your love is to become afraid of it.
About a month ago, someone asked me what had been going on in my life. I told her the circumstances. And I told her how I felt. She said she knew that she didn't know me that well, but she didn't think that sounded like me. The cowering, the hiding, the lack of joy. She made a few more comments and suggestions and because I can't let many posts go by without mentioning yoga, I can tell you, that is how I ended up sitting on a mat, crosslegged, learning how to breathe. Fear drove me there. Fear of people and circumstances, but also the fear of staying the person I had recently become.
I'm learning how to breathe again. I am learning how to sit still, mentally and physically and be fully present. I am learning to close my eyes without bracing myself for attack. I am learning which boundaries to keep and which to relax. I am learning how to lean into that which is difficult and breathe through it. And I am learning that my reality is not good, nor bad. It just is. I am learning to let go, but knowing I had to take hold first. Life is so much easier to fight for when you stop fighting against it.
For me, the reality was that I had let life beat me up. Instead of looking at life as a challenge--an adventure to be enjoyed-- the way I used to, I began to see it as something to endure. So I hunkered down and waited for the next attack. And to no surprise, each one came, and each time I balled up tighter in my foxhole. Life had gotten hard and scary so I hid. Literally and figuratively. I was a runner through most of my thirties and I ran freely. Joyfully, most of the time. Then I grew fearful of what could happen while I was out there. It is hard to run while carrying the weight of the world on your back. I learned that the quickest way to lose your love is to become afraid of it.
About a month ago, someone asked me what had been going on in my life. I told her the circumstances. And I told her how I felt. She said she knew that she didn't know me that well, but she didn't think that sounded like me. The cowering, the hiding, the lack of joy. She made a few more comments and suggestions and because I can't let many posts go by without mentioning yoga, I can tell you, that is how I ended up sitting on a mat, crosslegged, learning how to breathe. Fear drove me there. Fear of people and circumstances, but also the fear of staying the person I had recently become.
I'm learning how to breathe again. I am learning how to sit still, mentally and physically and be fully present. I am learning to close my eyes without bracing myself for attack. I am learning which boundaries to keep and which to relax. I am learning how to lean into that which is difficult and breathe through it. And I am learning that my reality is not good, nor bad. It just is. I am learning to let go, but knowing I had to take hold first. Life is so much easier to fight for when you stop fighting against it.
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