warrior pause

I haven't done yoga regularly, as a real practice, in a while.

And honestly, I'm ok with that, for the first time. I'm ok with not exercising on a particular schedule, with eating more randomly, with having yoga & exercise be something that I do if & only if I want to. There's a freedom and a joy in all that, so unlike my anorexic-ish, uber-self-controlled younger years. Its crazy that it took till 35 to really, truly, deeply feel that way.

My guru friend always used to talk about her love for the aging process, how it brings so much wisdom and peace, and I would nod, but secretly think that she was just trying to make herself feel better as the birthdays piled on, the wrinkles started to show. I love that she was so so right.

Anyway, so I'm doing the warrior pose, randomly, on a Tuesday afternoon. My fingertips extend out ahead of me and my back arm, strong and straight behind, and my torso hovered in the space between, and I was just there. And being stationary at that moment, feeling the movement of people and whispered internet voices swirling around me, it brought me back in time.

See, I was a kid who felt the pressure of staying on top. I got A's, and was head of my class, and that was just life. It was a given, but the anxiety that I had surrounding that was palpable - I had headaches, stomachaches, insomnia, panic. Definitely not a chilled out yoga-esque child. Strangely, one of the most anxiety-ridden things about all that was the moment when the teacher would say, ok, pair up and start doing this or that work. I would freeze, terrified that I would be the odd one out, everyone else would have a partner. They would start working, and I would be left behind, alone, ashamed, having to partner with the teacher or be the odd third. It didn't usually happen. Regardless, there was a sudden freezing of time, a rushing, swirling sensation of movement and productivity all around me, and I was stationary, frozen, petrified of life moving on around me and leaving me behind.

Somehow this yoga pose, that I've done probably thousands of times before, on this random Tuesday, brought me back to those moments, and soothed them. Told that little girl to calm the heck down. That its ok to be stationary when things are swirly. That you can still start, any moment, that its not too late, and it doesn't mean absolute doom because you paused. Maybe you are a pauser, an observer in life a little bit. Maybe you hang back a little, feel things out first. People like you have a place in this tumultuous world too. And, feeling entirely like a fool, I blinked back tears, and my 3 year old came into the room, and tackled me right down out of the pose. Cause sometimes life is like that, too.