Has anyone ever awakened to a bright, bright sunshiny day and yet, internally, feel the damp, cloudy blues of a London fog? At the moment, I’m fumbling through the maze of life, sorting through word puzzles trying to awaken my sudoko brain. Just like the rhythm of nature, the pathways we travel are embodied with seasons and the complexity of such can be challenging both mentally and physically.
I’m starting over at age 48.
Never saw that one coming.
The age old statement, “what to do when you don’t know what to do“, is definitely vocalizing to me today. I have entered the observatory of my existence, a satellite view of what has been, what exists and the infinity of what I can’t even imagine. What does that look like practically? A stepping back, an inventory, a process of appreciation versus regret, a quietening of my mind and body to heal from all that has been and is keeping me from what will be. The simplicity feels juvenile but necessary. I can hear the voices of my yoga instructors in synchronicity as they reverberate, “return to the breath“. It is a good admonition, after all isn’t that where we started?