When I was younger, life would often just get too much and I would have sleep for hours in the middle of the day. It was a way for me to cope with my crippling anxiety.
Fortunately, since I’ve unpacked the last of my childhood baggage (which, as many of you know, was some heavy sh*t) I don’t have to do that quite so much.
Unfortunately, now I don’t rest at all until my body forces me to. I love yoga so much and I have so many ideas I want to make reality, it’s fused the wiring on my stop button.
This, of course, is why I need yoga: as anyone who’s know me for more than ten seconds knows, I’m good at the effort but not at the letting go. I often joke with my students that I’m a good teacher because I am not naturally balanced (is anyone, really?). I understand what it’s like to gogogogo until you run yourself into the ground.
Like Albert Camus said,
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results.
So here I am, trying to listen to my body, rather than hear it and then ignore what it’s saying.
I’m resting up, and writing, in beautiful, if wet, Gippsland (at Mirador Springs in case you were wondering).
No phone reception, and more-or-less on an internet fast (so if I owe you an email, that would be why!).
Taking a break because I KNOW I need one. The fatigue told me so.
I suspect that I will always be on the highly-strung end of the spectrum. And I will probably always work a little too hard: it’s how I cope with life, plus I really do just love yoga so much, I want everyone to drink the kool-aid. Er, I mean, get the benefits of a yoga practice.
But right now, I’m going to take a nap. And then a walk in The Nature. If the rain stops for long enough, of course.
What’s your body saying today? Are you listening?