This morning, I “returned to the mat,” as they say. It must be a little over a year since I’ve practiced any yoga at all. I’ve thought about restarting my practice since the pandemic began, but someone very special to me prompted me to finally take the leap. Let’s just say, I’m definitely feeling it.
I moved from pose to pose, and though basic, each one revealed points of neglect in my body, like spots of rust forming on a metal structure. The tightness in my muscles and joints was palpable. This result didn’t really surprise me, but I found the exposure of this weakness to be a powerful metaphor.
We are all carrying burdens, and the compression and tension that these burdens create is only compounded by our choices and by the issues in our environment. The body knowingly—or unknowingly—bears much of this burden for us, and yet we can so easily lose touch with it. As I sit here, feeling warm aches in various places, I’m reminded of how beautiful it is that it’s possible to begin again.
It’s never too late to reconnect with your body. It’s never too late to appreciate the people you love. It’s never too late to move away from fear and create space for empathy, love, and relationships. There will be discomfort, but it’s a price worth paying. It’s time to begin once again, and I’m so grateful for the opportunity.