A thousand hands, pressing into the small of my back, warming up what once was cold and bound and sad.
I am trying something new on Saturday. Where I used to immediately march to my doctor, or someone behind a desk when my heart was broken for no good reason, this time I’m trying something different.
Before I went back to work full time I was able to take in two or three hour-long yoga classes a week, along with several long walks and more yoga at home. Now I work full time in an office, and must stare at a dull workload all day long. I take walks around the giant headquarters on my lunch and breaks, but I’ve missed the stretching and the centering and the challenge of the more intensive practice. During several really good sessions I’ve been moved to tears, trying to hide my face in my pretty purple yoga mat during Savasana.
I am just now piecing the odd puzzle that last year was together. Living in Alaska. Deciding to move. Deciding to quit work amidst the tumult to be more present and calm for Xander. Borderline homeless upon our arrival due to a bad ‘sight-unseen’ rental home that we had to flee in the night due to infestation. A nice new home. A calm few months. Calm on the outside, at least. My brain is still misfiring. Sputtering. Screeching its wheels as it tries to turn corners too fast. I’m the troubled one. Yoga and writing and my odd little projects have helped. Volunteering at my son’s school, spending so much wonderful time with him in the place we want to raise him…it’s been really wonderful.
So anyway, Saturday, I’m trying Reiki. I don’t want to fall so far that I need medication again – mainly because it never works for me, and also because I hate the way it makes me feel. Cold, odd, unfeeling, crazier. I’m trying to heal myself first, before I let chemicals rearrange my thoughts for me. I owe that to my poor, battered brain.