This week, in more ways than one, has been like a yoga class (make it the longer, advanced class). Last Sunday night, it was like getting ready to go to yoga class with 2 hours sleep, and very little to eat. How can I do this? So much to do, very little strength to do it. But it has to be done. I can’t stop. Deadlines, requirements, people needing things from me. Right now, I am laying on a couch, but my body feels like how it feels during savasana.
Like a long, challenging yoga class, this week placed the same demand on my body and mind. At times, I had great stretches, openings in my body and mind that I had never thought existed. As a result, I was happy, naturally high. I was walking fast, fast music, running everywhere, talking to many people, and talking fast. Okay, thats good. That means I can really go far. If I’m in no pain now, and I am able to stretch out and go deep into this stretch, I’ll be fine. Yet this high, I knew, would be extremely temporary and soon to be replaced by something opposite. Little did I know that all this energy I was exerting, my body was being worn down. Walking on campus to do an errand, suddenly I stopped at the sidewalk and everything was spinning, and I stared down and breathed, for fear I might fall over in front of all these people. I clutched on to a pole to stabilize myself because things were a dizzy mess. So scary. Somehow it passed – but it wasn’t the last time. Even sitting talking, after talking for so much, when I stopped, I fazed out, and had to put my head down.
Like in yoga, I do get hasty, to go the extra mile because in my heart I want to, and I want to move forward and push away this pain and burning that might come from slowly easing into a posture – bit by bit. But moving forward so rapidly is the wrong thing to do, and such extreme actions then lead to over-exhaustion, and eventually some injuries. This whole week has been moving into a posture that is new to me, and has resulted in a over-exhaustion and dehydration. I didn’t listen to the girl inside of me, telling me to crash mid-day, close the curtains over and lay in bed and listen to slow music. I didn’t listen to her when she said, “Ally, its okay to cry even though its the afternoon and your on a bus”. No. Because I was going and I wasn’t going to stop. I pushed the posture and now I am in pain with plans to sleep the weekend away. In my attempt to make things comfortable around me, find repair around me, I overdid it.
At one point, I was enjoying the change of season. Seeing the leaves change colour, falling to the ground, I was happy to see a type of progress around me. Season is changing, then I can change, and everything will change. But tonight I don’t feel the same way. I take it back. I’m nowhere near ready for the season to change. Tonight was the first time that I smelt that Fall smell, and instead of feeling happy about the fall, I wanted to crumble. I’m not ready. Fall means that the leaves are dying, and the greenery and the life that the summer embodied is dead. My chest felt like it was compressing my heart.
Maybe I’m not as ready for this posture as I thought. I wish I was, I really do. But it won’t be easy. If I was on 2 hours sleep, with not much to eat, how can I be ready for a new posture? I can’t. I have to take it easy. I have to regain strength, and nurturance before attempting such a thing. More so, I have to try to accept my exhaustion, pain, sadness, disappointment in failing, and open myself to healing and resting before trying the next new posture.
Easier said than done, but I’m going to give it a try.