It’s early. Really early. Actually I never slept so the notion of “early” seems irrelevant. Maybe it’s actually really late.
I got up early to meditate and do yoga. But when I got into my living room something in me wanted to write instead of roll out my mat. I try to get to my mat each morning, even for a brief moment of time. But today I really wanted to just sit, have a cup of super strong coffee and see what words came out of my mind…
I feel insanely unsettled. My mind was racing all night. I had to get up another time last night, at 3am, to take care of a few things that felt pressing. I’m sure they were hardly pressing but attending to them seemed to calm me down enough to warrant a few hours of restless lay-down. I’m not sure why I’m so disconcerted. I have a feeling it’s from lack of time. I haven’t brushed my hair in five days because throwing my dreading locks up into a messy bun takes six and a half minutes less than combing through the knots. I should really brush it today, it’ll take fifteen minutes now because it’s so damn tangled. That’s my own fault.
I can’t do this rush-rush-rush thing. But I think I can and I try for a period of time. And whenever I do it, it comes back to bite me in the ass. I get overwhelmed, stressed and easily agitated with people, places and things. I think this was why my first ever recreation therapist prescribed me yoga – she saw that lack-of-time addiction in me and wanted me to learn to accept and embrace the here and now. She wanted me to see the go-drive as an addiction and step out of the denial. I listened to her and you know what - that here and now thing, it works. I wholeheartedly believe it works, I know it works. But it only works if I stay true to who I am as a person – a person who needs to wake up and be able to roll out their mat, not ignore the inkling to do so out of fear that their mind is too crazy and full to meditate.
There. There it is. That’s why I needed to write. For those words to come out. For that realization to be made. I didn’t feel like meditating and doing yoga because I was fearful of being with my mind right now. I was fearful of learning that what I’m doing right now isn’t in my best interests despite my perceptual mind trying to convince me that it is. I was fearful of shedding light on who I am – someone who doesn’t do this workaholic thing well - someone who does it at the expense of their own well-being.
I’ve got to get back on track. I’ve got to start eating well again, cleansing my mind, moving my body and listening to my soul - working within my means and finding time for play and adventure every damn day.
I’m going to go and brush my hair now. If I’m late for work, so be it.
The honest learnings and raw reflections of my practice and my life. Unedited.