It feels like it’s been a little while since I’ve put my fingers on a keyboard to place my words in the world. I know that’s been because I’ve been feeling a little lost. I feared that if I sat and wrote, all that would come out was, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m feeling lost. I’m afraid I’ve made bad decisions.”
When I’m feeling this way, I tend to go into hibernation, hiding away in myself. Immobile. I find myself reading books of others who are exploring, the worlds, themselves. I see the seeds of longing I have, to connect to communities beyond my own; I’m just not sure where to plant them.
So here I am, sinking in. Trying to feel all of those feelings that aren’t so comfortable right now. Sitting into the uncertainty.
Since I’ve been back in New York, I’ve been looking to find some different outlets for myself. I’ve come upon a free Sunday yoga class, where I’ve been able to let my body move through some of this discomfort. Trying to remember that there are muscles there that have been forgotten. That holds true for my physical, as well as my emotional and spiritual body right now.
I look for the memory of that strength I once felt so strongly. That spirit that soared. I carry those muscles in me; they just need some stretching. Movement to remind me how to use them again. This may mean I’m stretching in some new ways for a bit. One teacher, as he moved us through our morning asanas, asked us to find that sweet spot between effort and ease. I’m not quite there yet, but as words from a book I just completed suggested, “just because you’re lost, doesn’t mean you can’t go exploring.”