Find That Love Again


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Yoga: Yoga for Connection (27 minutes)
Meditation: Ease with Everything (11 minutes)

Something on my mind, something I gotta find.

— Phonte

The prescription didn’t take. Well, that’s not true. I didn’t spend the week in a bad mood, but I’m struggling to shake this ennui. This morning’s session of yoga was about connecting with your breath and with yourself. It was mostly still—Shana might call it lay-on-the-ground yoga—and I was present throughout. I felt release. Alone in the house, I loudly exhaled several times. I cursed with relief. I thought I might cry.

Instead, I smiled.

That connection was fleeting, though. The meditation I do before writing these Sunday missives was an exercise in distraction. My mind wandered to to-do lists and imagining future interactions. I’m unexpectedly traveling for work in a week, and it has me uncharacteristically and unnecessarily anxious. But this isn’t the problem. I’m focusing on usual work shenanigans because the real challenge is elsewhere.

I told a friend this week that I don’t fight against the tide. I want life to be easy especially for everyone around me. I want to keep it nice. That works for me 99% of the time.

March 2018 was the other 1%. Maybe that’s why this morning’s meditation didn’t go well. Maybe I don’t want ease with everything. Maybe ease leads to complacency. Maybe trying to be easy is what got you to this uncomfortable feeling in the first place.

Probably. Sometimes. Maybe.

When I’m trying to figure my shit out, I write. So, I’m grateful this week for this space where I get to tap tap tap it out and hit publish. And for reminders that sometimes I write things I like, like this little story from 2002.

When I’m trying to figure my shit out, I read. So, I’m grateful this week for my public library branch and their seven-day rule on new releases which forced me away from digital distractions to devour Walter Mosley’s latest. I picked up Jeffrey Eugenides’s short story collection for this week’s adventure/challenge.

When I’m trying to figure my shit out, I eat. So, I’m grateful this week for this Epicurious meal-plan which was perfect even if my execution was not.

When I’m trying to figure my shit out, I seek fellowship. So, I’m grateful this week for lunch with my mom. Our conversation was wide-ranging but deep and probably not long enough. Afterward, though, I saw myself better.

I don’t know that I’ve ended this week having figured my shit out. I’m grateful, though. For the words. For the stories. For honesty. For the kitchen. For patience.

And, for you.

Yes, you.

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