I believe I can

So, yesterday I made friends with my asana nemesis.

It really came out of the blue. Wasn’t part of my “to do list” plan. I suppose it can be like that when you roll out the mat.

Sometimes you do so with clarity. Inherently knowing the direction you will or need to go. But sometimes, something else unfolds. Body and breath willing you to take their journey instead. Willing you to follow their lead. The mind slips back and the heart leads you forward.

The more time you spend on the mat, the more it seems to call to you.
Yesterday, I rolled my out my trusty purple mat. With it’s dog chewed corners and it’s worn out edges, it’s like an old friend I turn to daily. There’s no glamour studio. No matching lulu-lemon. There’s me. In my PJ’s. In my lounge room.
Often surrounded by the debris of my household.

Starting is the hardest part. Because the mind wants to be in charge. And to be honest, looking at household debris reminds you of the million other things there are to do. So I laid myself on my back, stretched my arms up overhead and breathed. Until my breath had played out my mind. And my heart could lift to rest.

I breathed in.
I breathed out.
I moved forwards.
I moved backwards.
I twisted again, and again, and again.

And then I lifted. My forearms on the ground. My legs hovered up high. And for the first time, they held there. For the first time, they held without a wall. For the first time, my inverted balanced body was somehow close to still.
But my ego mind was racing -trying to high five itself with OMG’s and “I’m doing it” – as the dopamine of success flooded my inverted upside brain.

I breathed in.
I breathed out.
I breathed in.
I breathed out.

Until my breath had played out my mind. And my heart could lift to rest.
And my nemesis asana forearm balance, held still.

Think core stabilisers, open twists and forearm balance.

Sometimes the best laid plans will lead you nowhere. And sometimes no agenda will take you somewhere. But we are all on a journey. A journey upon which we breath in. A journey upon which we breath out.

A journey upon which we return to ourselves.

I lowered myself from my first ever-freestanding forearm balance and rested. In my rest, I reflected on how I led up to the pose. How I built up to the strength. How with what I was told was impossible, I lifted and then somehow held myself still.

And realised it wasn’t about the pose, it was about the journey. I held myself still because I held myself centred. The development of the strength was the strength of itself. And that the impossible was well and truly possible. If you could believe it.

With this inherent connection, I felt I could hold and shape the world. And so today, I striped my FB photo in a rainbow. It’s a rainbow we, as a society, were told we would never get. It’s a journey, as a society, we were told we couldn’t travel. But as a collective we did. And as a collective we are. And if a middle-aged woman in her PJ’s can hold a forearm balance on her crusty lounge room floor, surely to powers that be can let love win.

Because I believe it can.

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