Back in My Body

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Sometimes, I'm scared to get on my yoga mat.

Because sometimes, I'm neglectful with my body -- like I have been the past few weeks.

I've been eating snacks and candies and PIZZA all. the. time. I've fallen off a workout program. I've been drinking too much coffee and not enough water. I've been sleeping in. I've been biting my nails. Even laundry and showering and shaving - daunting tasks. And my yoga practice? It was the first to slip away. •

But a few nights ago, it happened suddenly - I missed my yoga mat. My practice.

But I was just so scared.

Because I know that coming back to my mat,

means coming back to me.

And sometimes, when you've been running from yourself (from your thoughts and your actions), when you've been distracted and idle, when you've been lethargic and frivolous and gluttonous, it's hard to stop. To move. To come back.

But just now, I finally did. I made a move. A simple move: I rolled out my mat. And when I did so... I realized how dirty she was. How neglected.

I began dusting her off. Sweeping my hands across her, clearing away the dirt and dust and debris. And as I swept my hands back and forth, they grew hot with friction. I swept my hands harder and faster, creating more heat. Until my mental and emotional debris ignited and burned away as well. Until my whole being felt lit by a cleansing fire.

My hands melted into that heat, into my mat.

And then every part of my body softened

like a candle to a flame.

I slowly brought my head down, surrendered.

No longer scared of the silence.

Of what I might find there.

I pulled in a long, deep, full breath of air.

And on the exhale,

I came back

to me.